


First Reactions After Falling Through the Ice

by fallacyofwhat



Series: chaptered stories [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Age Swap, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Ambiguity, Angst, Discrimination, Fashion Designer Oh Sehun, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Genderqueer Character, Harassment, Homophobia, Invasion of Privacy, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mentions of Myth & Folklore, Model Kim Jongin | Kai, Model Oh Sehun, Modeling, Multi, Mutual Pining, Past Relationship(s), Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Self-Esteem Issues, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24371140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallacyofwhat/pseuds/fallacyofwhat
Summary: Jongin made somewhat of a 'deal' with the most sought-after model in the fashion industry before he was on the same step as him and even overtook him. Or was it the other way around? Always closely followed by the lenses of paparazzi and friends? But what if the whole construction breaks apart by one careless move and a witch-hunt ensues.A tale of Icarus flying to close to the sun. Butwhois Icarus in this tale? What are the retaliations?Or a tale of Kim Jongin who learns the definition of the thin ice and breaking through it, which way he breaks through depends. One thing is clear, Oh Sehun is the chaos, and the ice.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai, Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Oh Sehun, Kim Jongin | Kai/Oh Sehun
Series: chaptered stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747564
Comments: 28
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [benditlikebaekhyun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/benditlikebaekhyun/gifts).



> The rating is mature in the terms of some topics discussed and the behaviour and less of sexual references or smut. I just didn't fell comfortable putting another rating so far. And I have no idea about the fashion industry, if there are grave mistakes, I'm happy when you point them out, but this is also a work of fiction and so some things are nicer than in reality.
> 
> This story (one-shot) is inspired by the prompt of [@benditlikebaekhyun](https://www.instagram.com/p/B7bik5ih-mL/?igshid=1aj4knc05twzg), on Instagram, but took a whole different turn. Thanks for letting me write it.
> 
> Cursive speech indicates other languages then Korean usually English.
> 
> The title is taken from the song of the same name by La Dispute. The working title was "I'm taking half your tide and even if I bleed you dry". The lyrics are taken from the song _I Became a Prostitute_ by The Twilight Sad. I strongly recommend to look up the meanings of both songs to get an idea what made me write the story the way I did.
> 
> Cross-posted on [aff](https://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1445867/first-reactions-after-falling-through-the-ice).

The fashion world was thrown into a frenzy when Oh Sehun was announced as the new head designer at a ripe age of 36 for one of the biggest fashion companies around the world. After he worked off the books of the major players of _Charm_ ’s and _Beyond Closet_ as a designer.

All the while being a prestigious Louis Vuitton model and sometimes modelling for other major brands as well. He always stressed that he didn’t wish to become an ambassador for just one brand and be tied down to it in return. He wanted to enjoy as much fashion as he could, much to the distaste of some fashion houses, but somehow, he made it work. And on top of it, he preferred to wear what his friends designed, adding fuel to the fire. He himself designed many clothings under a pseudonym, only the fashion brands themselves knew he was doing that. But not much of his personal life and career is known, keeping his past a secret, and only posting once in a blue moon on his social media accounts. 

During photoshoots, he was effortlessly doing “nothing”, but he was always praised for his vulnerable looks in photos, his youthful complexion, his subtlety. It didn’t matter how strong the outfit was, he had something weak and soft in his eyes. When he gazed into the lens or away from the camera, lost in his own thoughts. Yet he still seemed dominant, cold, and unapproachable on the catwalk or the street. Wearing mostly dark clothes and shades whenever he could, an unmoving stoic face that seemed to be overflown with distaste, boredom and disinterest. He preferred to speak as little as possible in contrast to his interviews that seemed fake from how elaborate and deeply he spoke about topics. Also his habit of donating ridiculous amounts of money for projects concerning education of young children. No-one could tell who the real Oh Sehun was, despite him being a favourite for magazine covers. 

A stark contrast to him is Kim Jongin, a Korean living in Italy, working with major fashion brands and once working with Rihanna’s brand Fenty before he became an ambassador of sorts in his later years. Once the news got public, fans and reporters were hot on his heels. The 27-year-old model is in high demand all over the world, stealing hearts left and right. He was always smiling and giggling a lot, taking photos with fans and taking his time. He was a photographer’s favourite, giving his best with minimal effort and looking dashing even in low quality. Jongin always had a smile and wave for everyone, getting hyped over the smallest and most mundane things that people suspected him of drug use, with an added smirk or wink for measure. Sometimes his style looked thrown together but still well put. It worked out more times than humanly okay. Sharing photos of his nephew and niece when he was back home in Korea, recommending music, books, and movies; sometimes he came across to be an influencer instead of being a high-paid model. A very important note, he worked at Charm’s before joining Gucci as brand ambassador .

The two had been together long before Jongin joined Gucci, when Sehun started at Louis Vuitton. Just a couple of months after Jongin cut ties suddenly and unannounced. They walked the catwalk together multiple times, everyone called them a power couple, they had been as known as idols. That was until one day, 

_“Top-Model Kim Jongin Joining Gucci — Said To Have ‘Cut All Ties’ To Focus On His New Job”._

And he did cut all ties, he severed right through them with a burning hot knife. He had kept it somehow a secret from Sehun that Gucci was interested in him. Sehun hadn’t been a lot in Korea since he started working as designer for Louis Vuitton, he spent most of the year in France, but collected a ridiculous number of miles just to see his lover. Speaking of which, Jongin didn't have it easy with Sehun from the start. He had been nineteen when he met Sehun for the first time, at an after-show party where he debuted and hooked up with the older model in a bathroom, before Sehun swiftly kidnapped him and brought him to his room. Sehun had tasted like a heavy mix of cigarettes and white wine, but his hands had been unusually rough for a model and he felt like skinny dipping in the moonlight in the city’s park; forbidden.

The next day, when Jongin woke up in the probably comfiest sheets he could let his finger glide over, he realised what he had done and that he awoke alone. His forbidden taste was short-lasting, but he let it not influence him. Sehun had been careful, he had left no marks on Jongin’s impeccable–that’s what Sehun had called it–skin for his run the next day. But Sehun had already left a lasting impression on Jongin, but he apparently couldn’t make one on Sehun. 

“Oh Sehun has pulled out of the show last minute, he was called back this morning and returned to Korea with the first flight he could catch,” Jongin’s stylist gossiped with the girl styling Jongin’s hair. “Heard the organiser had been quite disgruntled about it, but he seemed to have good reasons, which was weird though.” 

“Dear! Jongin! Did you sleep bad, your eye bags are unbelievably heavy.”

“I’m sorry,” he smiled tiredly, “Guess all the nervousness didn’t let me have a good night’s sleep.”

_“Where’s the newbie?”_ Someone hollered across the dressing room, before someone came over in big strides towards Jongin. “Kim Jongin?” Jongin stared silently towards the newcomer, before nodding blankly. But the man, smaller in stature yet somehow broader than Jongin continued without missing a beat, _“Can you fill in for Oh Sehun tonight on the run? I know you only made your debut yesterday–congratulations on the international stage–but since it’s a Korean brand they, and we, would be happy to still fill in the expectations here. You’re just about the same height and build, his shoulders are a bit broader, but I was tasked with doing the corrections. So, yes or no?”_

Another man appeared behind him and looked apologetic while motioning towards the stranger. The stranger didn’t look like he usually talked more than a few words and looked clearly annoyed and pissed off, _“You know what? It doesn’t matter, just be there after you’re finished here. Just go look for Charm’s.”_ He turned almost around, short of catching sight of the man behind him, but whipped his head around again, squinting at Jongin for what felt like an eternity. Jongin felt like he was being scrutinised and disintegrated into the atoms of his meekly existence. How could someone be so scary? _“Who the fuck thought that using a slightly other nuance for the inlay of the lapel than the outside of the suit was a good idea? The fuck, and–I’m sorry,”_ he suddenly reached out for Jongin who flinched away but apologised quietly the second after. The stranger pulled from somewhere a safety pin and a needle before correcting something on the tie and retying it again. _“Which designer or tailor thought this was a good idea. You know what, kid, you should start with us, just a good meant reminder.”_

He turned around, yelping a bit when he finally saw the man behind him, _“Chan, the fuck?!”_

 _“I’m sorry for my chef, but Sir,”_ he suddenly switched to Korean, “I was looking for you, I’ve got an important call for you.” The other man replied and bowed to Jongin and the others again, before following the stranger outside who had already left. 

“What was that?” asked the hairdresser, visibly confused. Jongin didn’t catch everything, the stranger spoke too quickly for his comfort, but he understood most of it.

“Did I get that right? I’m supposed to fill in for the Oh Sehun?” Jongin asked in a quiet voice. Even if he spent the night with the man, just the thought made his blood rush and his spine tingle, he was still in awe of the man who made a name for himself. 

“Oh right, your English still isn’t the best,” the hairdresser piped in, the makeup artist nodding along. “But yes, you understood correctly.” This would be worse than his debut stage the day before, replacing Oh Sehun was another number, far bigger for him personally. 

“Who was that anyway?” Jongin finally asked since the stranger didn’t even introduce himself.

The other two shrugged the shoulders and someone else interfered, “He’s a tailor for one of the most prestigious tailoring businesses in South Korea, but I wouldn’t know his name. I just know that he’s a lot at Fashion shows where his company presents. Seems to be an unlikeable person if you ask me.”

A few hours later, Jongin stood at a pedestal and the strange tailor was flickering around him measuring and correcting here and there, but there wasn’t a lot for him to do for what Jongin was actually glad, he was already nervous enough and couldn’t even eat beforehand, his stomach just shy from growling.

“Did you eat yet?” the tailor, which still hadn’t introduced himself, asked him in Korean after he found out Jongin’s English wasn’t up par with his. Jongin almost answered, but his stomach betrayed him and gave off an unholy and sinful cry for help. The model blushed from embarrassment and he chuckled nervously, “I-no. No, as you can hear, I’m just way too nervous,” he trailed off.

“You should’ve eaten before, I can’t have you collapsing on stage, just because Sehun was an asshole and left for Korea and asked for you as replacement,” the tailor muttered under his breath, while fishing some protein bars from his bag, “You on a diet though?” His brows furrowed together dangerously and the thick form of his horn-rimmed glasses enhanced the effect of it. He pulled a face, upper teeth row showing while he looked somewhat confused and accusing. “You know what, fuck it, you need it.” Jongin had realised that the man cursed a lot in English while working. He motioned him towards him and then motioned him to take a seat while he heaved himself on a table, swinging his legs back and forth.

It was painfully silent in the dressing room, with everyone deep in their works, even the models; Jongin was used to a livelier atmosphere.

The deconstructed white suit was something else, leaving part of his stomach revealed, the top part of the jacket ending shortly before his belly button. But even the pants were almost a perfect fit length wise, tighter than what Jongin was used to, but it felt good, so different. He turned before the full body mirror, admiring himself in the suit. The tailor was staring at him, placing his cold finger at the revealed stomach, and made Jongin flinch, “We should do something about this I feel.” He wasn’t talking to him but the makeup artist that nodded away, chewing on her lip. The hairstylist had his hair just loosely brushed back, giving him a bit a wet look.

“Everyone is a bit down in the slumps since Sehun left us hanging. But he must've had a good reason when he was able to leave so suddenly. And since it is quite the important show for us…,” Chan, the tailor’s assistant walked up to Jongin. The tailor muttered _“I fucking kill him if not”_ under his breath, staring intently at the small screen of his phone, gnawing on his thumb. “Jongin, I’m sure you’ll nail it. We saw you yesterday and you have such a different presence, it’s refreshing. Gotta say, love how you flirt with the cameras.” The assistant added with a wink. 

“Especially at the after-party,” the tailor bore a knowing look before ushering Jongin out.

Jongin was sweating out of sheer fright and rigidity when he walked his last round on the catwalk, as last person, something Oh Sehun should have done. The stars the makeup artist drew on his naked skin, reflected the light, and shone in a soft pink as far as distinguishable, giving off an even more fae-ish and mythical prince feeling. He would somehow get back at him for that. First the very successful night and then being thrown into the cold water like that. He needed some well-spiced chicken after that and maybe one or two, maybe three sojus. Staggering down the steps, everyone was congratulating him, after he received distasteful looks in the beginning. A newcomer covering for a professional, had some fashion outlets titled their stories similar. Jongin had tried to ignore the looks he received, but it was the tailor’s assistant who kept an eye on him and maybe the suit, Jongin wasn’t sure.

“Got to say,” the tailor had started, before he left Jongin alone for the night, parting their ways at the back entrance of the venue, when he actually had saved Jongin from the after-party he was thankful for, “Your skin complexion fitted Monsieur’s suit a lot better than Sehun’s would have. Just a penny for thought.”

Instead of going straight home, Jongin pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and walked to the place his team and he decided to meet up for after work drinks and food. One of them managed to find a Korean restaurant to accommodate Jongin's taste and celebrate.

He somehow managed it back to his hotel room, dropping dead into his bed, the covers smelling vaguely of something familiar. Thank god he would stay two days longer in Italy, so he could sleep his hangover out the following day.

The next day came—and rise and shine—Jongin had the hangover of his life so far. His head was pounding and the overbearing smell of something sweet was just enhancing the situation. Before he could get a grip on his life, he held his mouth and dashed to the bathroom, just barely managing to stick his head inside the toilet, before vomiting everything out that was left in his stomach. He felt so lousy, he couldn’t even pity himself. With staggering legs, he walked up to the sink, splashing cold water in his face, trying desperately to get a grip on his life, before flinging himself back into the bed, calling the room service for some soup and bread. That’s when he finally recognised what was wrong in his room; the scent of flowers he had ignored since the very beginning.

With small eyes he stared at them, but the more he squinted the worse his vision became, before he stumbled back into the bathroom until he remembered that he forgot his contact lenses, he was tapping around with his finger until they grazed his glasses. With QFHD restored, he walked back into the room, squatting down before the low coffee table. He whipped out his phone and took a photo of the massive bouquet, sending it into the group chat room, but it wasn’t from them. The bouquet was ridiculous, massive, and extravagant, and fragrant, he couldn’t even get it on the plane that way. Picking at the flowers, a card slid out of it. 

_Blue Stars fit you. Merci beaucoup for doing such a beautiful job. - Monsieur_

Even the damned handwriting was so extra to the point Jongin had problems picking apart the cursive letters. Whoever it was seemed to have enough power or room to get those flowers delivered to his room. The guts.

The second time Jongin met Sehun, the other approached him openly, thanking him for covering for him. Three months later! Clad in a black turtleneck with the sleeves rolled up and tucked into the pants, his jacket overthrown on his forearm and the black chino, Jongin was a goner for him in simple outfits. He just swiped him right off the carpet into his strong arms. And somehow the whole situation from the first time quickly repeated itself and Jongin found himself shivering and writhing under Sehun again, repeatedly over the course of the night. Forgotten the idea of getting back at Sehun for dropping such a bomb on him the first time. When he moaned Sehun’s name in a prayer time and again, Sehun answered in a duet. He got even less sleep than the night back then. But this time it was in Korea and not Italy. 

This started happening with a regular frequency, and Jongin let it happen, let himself be taken away by the older, letting himself be ravished and worshipped. Unfortunately, more often than enough, Sehun was nowhere to be found after such nights. It kind of bothered Jongin because he didn’t know if he was being used or not. 

But the more the two met by coincidence, the more the press and media noticed a change between the two. They walked there first show together three years later and the press automatically compared the two. Jongin had become the new star in the night sky with a head spinning pace.

Both had a similar aura on the catwalk, but while Sehun was pretty stoic he let his body and aura speak for himself, while Jongin played with his face and body, his expression shifting and flirting, and it also mirrored in their dresses. His previous training as ballerino and jazz dancing being a gift of the gods to photographers who had the least work with such an easy-going _sujet_ .

Jongin wasn’t sure what he should think about the whole situation, until one day Sehun pulled him aside after a show backstage, in a dark corner and just kissed him. Usually there wasn’t a lot of kissing involved, but it felt different this time. How Sehun’s hands slid across his back and how his tongue asserted dominance over Jongin, making his legs weak with each lick and flick of his tongue inside Jongin’s cavern. They had been seen by a reporter who was backstage for an interview and the photo spread through the internet like an unstoppable wildfire, partly because Sehun always had answered he wasn’t interested in anybody. There had been rumours from paparazzi, reporters, models, and insiders alike, of two high-profile models hooking up with each other but no-one could tell who it would be. Until the name of Kim Jongin surfaced. The young model almost broke from the pressure that suddenly unfolded at the tips of his own two hands, crawling up his palms and into his veins at a rapid pace. Everyone wanted to know who it was. He received hate, dirty looks wherever he was going. It was unwarranted, people didn’t even know who to be pissed at, who Jongin was caught up with, their hate was swallowed by jealousy. For whom they didn’t know.

His management had close tabs on him, monitoring his every move, keeping him safe on a short leash from the paparazzo. His past was duck up, each little detail of his online presence dispersed into every bit. Jongin personally knew it was dangerous territory, all the bouquets, all the photos he’d taken with friends and people he looked up to, industry giants like Sehun. Yet he was still glad he had such a boring life and still nothing could be found to be blown out of proportion—not even ex-lovers, neither male nor female. He was only twenty-one at that time. Only two years in the industry.

The media lost interest in him as soon as it started, when they found their next victim and Jongin was left alone, yet he found himself back at the tips of Sehun’s slender fingers fast and hard, wrapped around his pinkie.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Questionable advances/motifs and violence.

They didn’t realise it, too caught up in their own bodies, tangled in the sheets, too blinded by their hunger and lust for each other, the longing inside their chests. They had been ignorant for so long towards their surroundings. Sehun stayed after the night, pressing his naked body against Jongin’s sore one under the stuffy sheets, nibbling on his shoulders while touching him. Jongin was on cloud nine. Head high in the dopamine Sehun released in him—he could die right there.

Jongin wasn’t strong enough to ask a question tainting his mind, but Sehun seemed to pick up on it. “In any case, I didn’t use you in any way, Jongin. I was just so infatuated with you, the first time I saw you—” Sehun trailed off and Jongin moaned involuntarily when Sehun pressed into him, “But you just ripped my common sense right out of me.” He turned Jongin around, caging the younger under him. Sehun’s eyes were so soft, completely different from the public eye and he seemed to get younger and easy-going when he was with Jongin. At least that’s what Jongin imagined.

“You’ll stay this time?” Jongin asked, voice hoarse and raspy from just waking up and the night before. Sehun kissed along his jaw, humming in lieu of a spoken response, “Fit enough for a round of morning sex in the shower?” His lips progressively moved southwards, keeping a steady pace and Jongin’s hips secured in his hands, pressing him down. The younger got undeniably excited from just the thought alone, but before Sehun was nibbling at his pubes, a phone call cut through the content sighs of Jongin.

Jongin was confused, he didn’t await any calls and it was supposed to be his free day. Sehun slumped down on Jongin’s chest and let his scalp be massaged while Jongin picked up the phone. The high-pitched scream on the other side made him flinch, _“You fuck Oh Sehun!?”_

“I—wait, what?!” Jongin stared visibly confused at Sehun whose head snapped upwards upon hearing everything clearly, especially his name.

 _“You two are over all news, Kim, everyone, and I mean everyone, is talking about you.”_ Jongin finally made out who was screaming at him—before the information was finally relayed to his brain.

He was aghast, how could that happen? He didn’t even know what was happening, just a couple of hours ago he had Sehun between his legs and now suddenly everyone found out? Speaking of Sehun, he had pulled himself up, away from Jongin and he looked sour. Jongin’s hand wanted to reach for him, but he resorted to grabbing the sheet instead. Suddenly, like a knife cutting through silk, a sharp pain rain through his chest, right up his face and he felt his nose constricting, his breaths falling short. He tried his hardest keeping his tears and cries at bay. He didn’t know if Sehun was leaving him now, and the information from the other side of the phone didn’t filter through to his consciousness. He didn’t realise he lost grip on his phone that was slowly sliding out of his hand while he was spiralling into a breakdown.

“How did they find out?” Sehun had taken Jongin’s phone, answering in his stead while trying to get Jongin up, to breathe evenly. He straddled him, Jongin’s phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, while he held Jongin’s face in his hands, forcing him to look at him. Jongin was stammering out unintelligible _‘don’t leave me_ ’s while the tears were streaming down his face. Sehun knew what that revelation could mean for someone as young as Jongin. In between him answering the phone, he whispered to Jongin to follow his breathing pattern while the person on the other end was filling him in.

_“So, it is true, Jongin is fucking you,”_ it was a statement not a question.

“I forbid me such statements in this situation, sir. But it is correct, he is spending time with me.” He was disgruntled with the way the person spoke. A thought was flashing through his mind, but he forgot about it as soon as it appeared.

 _“You’ve been seen yesterday, you are kissing Jongin, backstage. It’s all over the press.”_ He couldn’t pinpoint the tonal aspects of the voice, but it did sound angry, maybe even disgusted. _“Don’t you think you’re too old? Shouldn’t you flock around your age and not seduce young boys?”_ Something about the way the other person articulated ‘boys’ made Sehun listen up.

Sehun was almost at a loss for words, yet he recovered quickly, “First of all, Jongin is an adult and not some 16-year-old boy. Second, as long as he’s happy and okay with it I’m also fine with it. If he had problems with me being older, we wouldn’t be here. Third, I neither care nor know who you are, but if you talk the same way to him the way you do to me now, we’re going to have a problem.” He cut the call while Jongin was pressing his face into his chest, still hiccupping. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you, Jongin, I won’t leave you alone.” Jongin was pulling at his clothes, still shaking, and sinking his fingernails into Sehun’s ribcage. A few years ago, Sehun wouldn’t have cared, but he was playing around with Jongin for three years. At least one side would develop feelings, of course. He can’t shut his eyes before that. Of course, he couldn’t run from that.

It took Sehun an hour until Jongin calmed down and fell asleep from overexertion. He thought about leaving, but this might be not the wisest choice. His manager still hadn’t contacted him, but he got an email from his agent. He scrolled through the news. They pulled up old paparazzo photos, some being overanalysed when Sehun was seen with someone. But he always made sure, to the best of his ability at least, no-one saw them. Jongin, sleeping next to him pulling a discontent face, was a rising star, yet the industry was unforgiving.

He scrolled through his Instagram; his inbox was blown up but so had been his other social media. His eyes flicked over to Jongin’s phone and it itched in his fingers to snoop through his messages, to see if anyone did him bad. His eyes stopped for a few moments on some messages on his own phone. Some of encouragement, others not so much. It wasn’t his first scandal, but maybe it still was one. Age gap, same sex, some people still had been close-minded. It seemed like he lost a few followers, some calling him out, but some comments had mentions of Jongin’s handle and most of the content wasn’t as friendly per se. Clicking on the handle, he was redirected to Jongin’s account that mostly featured photos from his shoots, but some seldom group photos, or photos with friends. The comments on Jongin were a complete mess, up and down and in between, everything was there. Hate, love, encouragement, anger, it hurt to see. Now it was time to speak things through with Jongin, he let it slide for so long. But he couldn’t even stop himself the evening before, had to press his lips against Jongin after he wasn’t able to touch him for so long. And he looked way too delectable for Sehun’s taste, just right up his alley. Not a lot of people managed to do so in the past, but there was something about Jongin. His complexion, the tan, the sun-like aura, the way he moved. Sehun was mesmerised and transfixed the first time he saw him. He wasn’t a trophy hunter or liked to use his reputation to get what he wanted, but when Jongin was writhing under him the first night, after his existence already enthralled Sehun in the bathroom at the after-show party, after he had what he wanted; he was a goner, he needed more, he needed all of Jongin.

Sehun had stepped outside, when Jongin awoke. He was confused as to where he was, and his head was pounding from crying. After his initial disorientation he realised Sehun wasn’t there. Shooting up in the covers, he raised his voice, “Sehun?” But no answer came back and Jongin started to be on edge again. Why was everything getting so fast to him that day? “Sehun?” He stood up, the cover dragged with him while he wrapped it around his shoulders. On bare soles, he padded through the apartment, he didn’t even really remember how he got here, but it actually seemed to be Sehun’s apartment, according to the paintings and photographs on the wall, a shelf full with magazines he modelled for. The atmosphere was chilling, the decoration wasn’t dark, but some of the colours evoked uneasiness in an already agitated Jongin. If he wasn’t so confused, he might have appreciated the colours which in turn were quite pleasing and nice on the eyes. The paintings, in return, seemed to be mismatched in Jongin’s eyes, yet he felt a connection between them. The whole apartment seemed to be Sehun, Sehun on stage. 

“Sehun?” Would Sehun leave him alone in his apartment? Did he leave so Jongin leaves too? His thoughts were in a downwards spiral again, when he heard barefooted pads on the tiles before Sehun sauntered around the corner, a glass of wine in one hand and his phone in the other, “Jongin, you’re awake!” He smiled widely when he caught the side of the dishevelled looking male. Placing his things aside, he slid over to Jongin, his hands automatically slipping past the blanket, his fingers grazing the naked skin underneath. Jongin shivered under the cold touch, yet he looked to the ground unable to look Sehun in the eye. “What is wrong?”

“I—I thought you left or wanted to throw me out of your home?” Jongin felt guilty for speaking his thoughts aloud.

“Why would I?” The confusion and hurt was genuine in his voice. “Jongin, look at me.” Sehun placed his lips on Jongin’s collarbone where the blanket had dropped. He moved upwards until he nibbled at Jongin’s chin and his hand at the small of Jongin’s back pressed the younger into him. The blanket had long dropped and pooled around Jongin’s feet while he stood stark naked in Sehun’s presence at the mercy of his hands. The cold air was grazing his skin, leaving goosebumps on his skin, while he slammed his lips to Sehun’s. It made him forget his worries for a moment, when he let Sehun devour his soul, making small comments of how beautiful Jongin is and that he shouldn’t worry. Jongin found himself sprawled out on Sehun’s couch while the older man hungrily leaned over him, before he forgot everything that happened, and he gave himself to Sehun for the hundredth time. 

His high held until Sehun pulled him out of it, bringing him back to the ground of hard facts after their shower. “What are you going to do, Jongin?” He wanted to ignore the reality longer, his head up in the clouds, but Sehun was right.

What came to Jongin afterwards was a mess, his management had denied rumours first until Sehun came out one or two days later with his own statement, followed by his agency, backing his choices to be with Jongin and keeping it a secret. It went too fast for Jongin, he was only twenty-three. Many, many people called him out for using Sehun as a lever, while he was tucked into bed with said man on countless nights afterwards. Sehun protected him by all means. He knew he might have fallen in love with Sehun along the way. What was puppy love in the beginning, illusions or so he tried to tell himself, developed into something else. When Jongin realised that he fell in love with someone he barely knew, followed up by the revelation of the “relationship” exposed, he was unsure. But he ‘knew’ Sehun for three years, yet he didn’t know anything about him. Sehun had already started to change when Jongin was barely just 21, he was taking more time out for Jongin. Talking with him in the public eye on events and not just pulling him along and devouring him. Introducing him to designers and the tailor Jongin only met once until then when he filled in for Sehun. Sehun never explained how that did happen, but Jongin decided not to ask anyway, maybe one day he would. Who knows?

After they got exposed, Jongin hadn’t it easy. Lots of people, mainly fans turned their backs on him and so did fellow models. Lots of rumours began spreading, but Jongin had his team behind him that defended him whenever they had to. But that changed slightly, after one of the culprits of spreading more extreme rumours and sharing sensitive information took it to the extremes. Yet Sehun and Jongin became somewhat LGBT* icons in a still somewhat conservative South Korea. He made more money than ever, pulling one major deal after another in. His life started to normalise and stabilise two months after they had been exposed and he and Sehun started to date openly or finally started dating officially. It went all very fast for Jongin. Until his phone number was leaked, a year after the first scandal happened, when his relationship with Sehun really started to flourish, and a new flood of allegations came in.

He was so close to his breaking point, to his final breaking point. He shut everyone out and off, running from his responsibilities. In a dawn raid, he packed his few important belongings, not more than a backpack, leaving his phone shut off in the middle of his living room. Pulling on a face mask, he hailed a taxi. Just earlier he had ordered a ticket for the overnight train to his hometown, to Suncheon-si.

He couldn’t sleep or relax, close his eyes just for a few minutes. He was paranoid, even if no-one was in the waggon, the conductor just smiling friendly when checking his ticket. He was on the edge. In the early morning hours, he arrived at Suncheon Station, walking the still empty streets under the night sky, while the horizon slowly broke, revealing the rising sun. He knocked at his parents’ door when it was still too early to be not suspicious. It took him a few rings, until finally someone opened.

“Jonginnie, what happened?” His mother was aghast, ushering her son in, who she hadn’t seen in ages since he moved to Seoul. He must have looked like a mess, but he refrained from giving his reflection a glance, when he passed a mirror. His mother led him to his old bedroom, hushing him in a soothing and whispery voice.

“Mother, I’m enlisting today. Would you give me the honour of shaving my hair?” He stared her dead in the eye, when he turned around in the doorframe to his room, his hand flexing uncomfortable around the handle of his backpack. His mother, sensing something deeply wrong with her son, just broke down in tears, finally alerting his father who emerged from their bedroom. Seeing his wife on her knees, bawling her eyes out, he was suddenly wide awake, “Jongin? Haeun? What is happening?”

“Our son is enlisting!” She stammered out, her hiccups swallowing most of the syllables. “Today!” His father, never a man of many words, plummeted down to the floor, his arms encircled his wife’s shaking shoulders, the wetness in his eyes reflecting against the hall lamp. Jongin slowly leaned down towards his parents. It hurt his already fragile heart to have hurt his parents like that. Wrapping his arms around them, he muttered apologies.

“Whatever made you take this decision, son, we’ve got your back. Always,” his father held onto his hand, when Jongin rose. His father was deeply suspicious as to what made Jongin take the decision, but the years have taught his parents that their son wouldn’t speak of such things as not to burden the family. They knew he was seclusive when it came to his private life and so knew Jongin. He saw the scepticism in his father's eyes in the dimly lit hallway, but he dismissed it. His parents didn’t know a lot about him and it was sometimes a wonder how they didn’t even follow his career or not the articles surrounding them or they weren’t told by their neighbours.

“Thank you. Mother. Father.” Jongin slowly closed the door behind him before dropping into his bed and the lights were immediately out.

Sehun was unable to reach Jongin, wherever he tried to, even Jongin’s management had no hunch about his whereabouts. He even drove to his apartment, but no-one was there. He was already starting to get angry and confused. He wasn’t sure if anything happened to him. But just shortly after Jongin’s company received a letter of resignation from Jongin himself, sent from Seoul. 

While knowing that Jongin had resigned, Sehun at least finally found out who the culprit behind exposing Jongin after all this time was. His lawyer told him to be level-headed and the police also told him to stay put. He paid enough money to find out who dared to defile Jongin’s reputation and it paid off, but it made him just angrier. Money was no problem for him, so was bribing a corrupt police system.

When he arrived at the police station, he was still way too overdressed. He was looking for Jongin for a good six months now, which was already ridiculous, and no-one could tell him anything. Even speaking, and a little bit of interrogation, with Jongin’s sister who owns a café in Seoul. Nothing. But Jongin’s parents knew something, but refused to speak with him, it was a dead end for him.

At the police station, he stood in his suit and coat at the other side of the one-way mirror, listening to Jongin’s manager being interrogated by an intimidating looking police officer. His hands crossed behind his back, his knuckles turned white when he clutched his gloves harder, his face starting to hurt from the stretch of his skin over his bones from how hard he bit down. He felt the adrenaline and fury rage through his veins, the man had the audacity to call Jongin a faggot and saying it was his own mistake, if he hadn’t done anything someone else would. So was his train of thought at the moment at least. His mistake was that he refused a lawyer, Sehun’s luck. The officer left the room, telling the manager that someone was coming to pick him up and bring him to his cell where he would wait until someone paid the bail for him. 

The officer came into the room Sehun was in, gesturing to the door. With long strides, he was out the door, and within seconds, he stood before the door to the interrogation room. Pushing the door open, he entered and upon seeing him, the manager paled, his mouth opening and closing like a fish struggling for air. “Wh—what are you doing here?” His little eyes, filled with fear, stared at Sehun, through the one-way mirror, who was slowly pulling on his gloves. He was stuttering and trying to pull away from Sehun who suddenly had gripped his hair and pulled his head back. The handcuffs rattled against the metal of the table, before the sound of breaking bones resounded in the small and a scream filled the silence. Sehun pressed the bleeding face of the man into the table before he leaned down, aligning his mouth with the man’s ear who was sobbing in pain, “I’ve warned you.” With one final push, he lifted himself up, pulling a handkerchief from the box on the table and whipped his gloves, “What a shame and at that at such a lowly rat like you, what a shame.” He threw the soiled piece of cloth away. Leaving the room and the crying man behind, he pulled off his gloves, pocketing them in his coat’s pocket. Without another word, he left the police station. The camera’s and the sound recording had been turned off, before Sehun had set foot in the interrogation room. He did know how to use his money. He just didn’t know how to find Jongin.

The media had asked Sehun what had happened to Jongin countless times, he was only able to smile tiredly these days, always giving the same excuse, “He just took some time off. You didn’t leave him room to breathe.” Partly it was true, so true Sehun started to believe his own lie, but just almost.

Sehun had lost hope, he had started to move on, kind of. He was never able to confess his growing feelings, yet he was in a relationship with Jongin, somehow. He wasn’t so sure anymore. That changed when a couple of months later a low-quality picture surfaced. It pictured a man with a facemask and a buzzcut next to another man in a restaurant. His face wasn’t clear, but the caption said that it was supposed to be Kim Jongin. That ‘fallen’ model had been spotted at a little bulgogi restaurant in Ulsan.

Sehun had a hint and he had an idea where Jongin finally might be. One of his worst traits he hid so long was his possessiveness and this trait suddenly resurfaced with such a force that it rivalled the first time he saw Jongin in person on the runway. He wondered why he didn’t think about it before, but he didn’t think about the possibility of Jongin enlisting if the mandatory military enlistment wasn’t even relevant for him anymore. Sehun had to, but it had been put off around the time Jongin must have turned twenty Sehun mused. Now with the information, it was easy to track down Jongin’s whereabouts, but if he was able to get his hands on him was something else. Jongin had finished half his time now, according to the date Sehun received and he did well, not top, but well enough and above average. Yet Sehun realised he couldn’t track him down that easily, apparently Jongin was working with the naval and changing locations ever so often.

Something stirred and rose in him: betrayal, jealousy, confusion. Why? Why did Jongin leave him in the first place when he should’ve been aware that Sehun would’ve protected him? Did he want to end the relationship? Was being with Sehun such a burden to him? Frying his brain over it wouldn’t give him the answers he needed. He could only get them directly from the source. He either tracked him down when he had a holiday or waited for him to finish his service. Waiting for him to end his services would be a disaster, knowing that he knew where he was.

Sehun was working on a special collection for an art magazine, that was keeping him busy enough so he would forget his struggles for once. While it was supposed to be a re-interpretation of classical masterpieces, he couldn’t be happier with what he was tasked with. Instead of solely focusing on the outfits like others did for this project. He decided to work closely together with the photographer, the hair stylist, and the make-up artist instead. He also got himself help from his tailor friend who was supposed to be busy anyway, but after some clashing with his team, he decided to drop out instead and focused on Sehun’s collection and exhibition. He had started working on it five months after Jongin disappeared and he would be working on it a year, just the planning will busy him for over nine months, that’s what he calculated. It would take him an additional three to four months for the tailoring and the shoots, but it would almost align perfectly with the return of Jongin and Jongin wouldn’t know about it.

He took a break from modelling, he could afford it, but towards the outside it was under the pretence of a sabbatical. People argued that the fame was making him delusional, that he would be too old to model anyway and whatnot. But it was what he needed, his own tattoo being the sole starter of what might be his most ambitious project to date. Even Jongin had once asked what it meant, spanning over his upper back, down the spine. Sehun would even remember the pain of being tattooed on the spine, it wasn’t a pleasant memory. How was he supposed to explain to Jongin that his tattoo portrayed the God of Chaos? He even had the hieroglyphs tattooed on his wrist to be reminded. 

He compared himself sometimes too much to Seth, being accused of envy, violence, trickery, and disorder. He grew up in France, the weird Korean kid that had no friends. When he moved back to Korea, he was the guy looking like a Korean but that wasn’t acknowledged as Korean by his peers. He learned about Seth when he was in school and his teacher taught about Egyptology. He wasn’t mesmerised per se, but he felt a pull and the rest is history.

The deity wasn’t the central point of his collection, he was just a cogwheel in the system. The centrepiece would depict Saturn devouring his son. Since Sehun saw the painting from the Black Series by Goya the first time, it haunted him in his dreams and was ever so present in his daily life without him noticing before. Everywhere was the fear of betrayal and what people did to stop it from happening, sealing their fate in return.

Jongin even commented once that even his choice in music represented his stage persona and that it was scary. It was loud, dark, aggressive, memorable, you couldn’t forget it so easily.

He shook his head, he started thinking excessively about Jongin again and he still had six months until he was discharged. He punched the table. “Tsk.” He forgot that he wasn’t alone in the room. The tailor was staring at him with a look of reproach and distaste, concern. He was younger than Sehun, two years, yet more mature from an early stage on. “If you hit the table one more time, I’m smashing your priceless face into the power loom.” He didn’t blink over the rims over his horn-rimmed glasses. The glass of clear alcohol suspended still in the air and pencil in the other. A quick glance told Sehun that he had shrugged when Sehun punched the table. 

“Sorry, Kyungsoo,” he muttered his apology, not even remorseful in the least and Kyungsoo knew it.

_“You can stick your apology so far up your ass until you choke on it.”_

_“Fuck you.”_

_“I hope you die.”_ Kyungsoo was back to making notes on Sehun’s designs, brainstorming how to translate it. Zeroing in on Kyungsoo, he remembered the day he met him like it just happened.

> He wasn’t even a month at the new private high school in Korea, but the bullying had already picked up in the first week when the kids realised how bad his Korean was. He was fluent in French and English instead. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand in, but the speaking and his lisp holding him back. Just shortly after, he landed in the crossfire of the bad guys, more like delinquents, that finally had someone their height that they could beat up. It was straight out of high school manhua. His lip was scarred to these days and so was his knees and right upper arm. He would have received a kick to the face if it weren’t for someone calling a deep yet soft-spoken _“Could you politely fuck off?”_
> 
> If Sehun had learned one thing in France or his time in Europe in general, don’t underestimate someone by their height alone, what seemed to be a common thing in Korea, at least to his understanding. 
> 
> _“Oh, look, a dwarf,”_ someone had mocked, but Sehun was too blinded by the aura the stranger radiated, that he turned everything out and his body, rigid from anticipating a kick, went slack.
> 
> _“Usually I’d say that you should pick someone your own height, but that seemed unnecessary. Someone already gave the teachers a notice. So, if you would be so nice?”_ The stranger made a wave as if to disperse flies.
> 
> _“As if the teachers care anyway,”_ another guy hissed, moving slowly forward to the other pupil. But as soon as he jumped the considerably smaller guy, he reached out for the guy’s left arm with his right one, turning his body with the movement, and ripping the guy towards him, before smashing his face into the ground under him, just mere centimetres from the stone path. The other guy howled in pain. 
> 
> _“That was self-defence, he attacked first,”_ he wiped his hands on his uniform jacket and placed his hands on his hips. He inclined his head and looked at Sehun, asking in English, _“You okay, mate, you look like shit, we should see the nurse after this.”_ Sehun wanted to warn him, yet his voice broke. The boy had seen himself that the guy on the ground was reaching for his ankle, fury burning in his eyes. He slammed, in the blink of an eye, his heel of his dress shoe onto the wrist reaching for him. Now the guy was just straight out screaming Sodom and Gomorrah. The others had been frozen, one seeming like he wanted to pounce on the other guy as well, but he was pinned down with eyes only. _“I repeat, could you politely fuck off? Or you’re next.”_ It seemed to do the trick and they scurried off, one throwing Sehun signs of I’m watching you, before they disappeared behind a corner.
> 
> The teachers had never been alerted and Sehun knew who he had his violent tendencies from.
> 
> The guy had been Kyungsoo, one grade under him and two years younger. And if Sehun’s rumours were hurting then Kyungsoo’s were straight up defaming. People whispered he was the son of a mafia boss that killed so many people, while he in reality liked to dress up in his older sister’s clothes and tailoring dresses for her with his old sewing machine he got from his neighbour and had an older brother that taught him martial arts.
> 
> Something about the stranger that would soon become his friend, made something switch in Sehun and he let his emotions out, the positive and negative. Sehun’s suppressed emotions rose to the surface, hidden behind an emotionless expression that only lit up when he gazed at the ones he loved and cherished.

While Sehun was working on his collection, Jongin was still taken aback that Sehun took a sabbatical. It’s not like he was cut off from civilization, information just took longer to reach him. He didn’t know if it was because of him. Some soldiers had either teased him because he was kind of openly bisexual but the prejudices in South Korea were still strong. In return, some stood behind him and some even thought about updating him about what was happening in the world. But one thing he wouldn’t have expected was meeting his childhood friend in the camp that enlisted a month after him.

Taemin had moved to Busan when Jongin had moved to Seoul and they somehow lost contact after they were joined by the hip throughout their school years. But once they met, it felt like they’ve never been apart a single day in their life. Jongin had a good childhood and he was thankful and grateful for it, otherwise he might have never met Taemin. His best friend and unrequited childhood crush, he never told him. Oh, how sweet was the heartbreak when Jongin saw Taemin kissing a girl. He seemed so happy, something Jongin could never give him. He distanced himself from Taemin, and even if he had a girlfriend, he always actively looked for Jongin’s comfort. It was so draining on him, but how should he tell him, if even Jongin himself still tried to ignore it. He wasn’t ready to accept it yet. It wasn’t like he only liked boys, he also liked girls, until one day, when he hooked up with an older man for money. His parents hadn’t much money to begin with, and he also wasn’t an only child, he had two sisters.

> He didn't have enough money for a gift for his parents' wedding anniversary and so did his sisters. He was heartbroken and tears were escaping his eyes in broad daylight.
> 
> _“Why are you crying?”_ Someone asked him, a deep raspy voice and when Jongin looked up, he was taken aback. When he thought he was crushing on Taemin, then what was the stranger doing to him? His brain was working on autopilot when his mouth already started babbling about his misery. The stranger’s eyes softened a lot, while he was listening to Jongin. 
> 
> _“Oh, I’m sorry, you probably only asked out of courtesy, I’m sorry for talking too much. I should le—”_ The man was looking unfairly good in Jongin’s eyes and now he couldn’t deny it, not this time when a stranger had this effect on him. Maybe it was the suit, he tried to lie to himself. 
> 
> _“What’s your name? Mine is Lee Min-Jun, but please, call me buy my first name,”_ he bowed slightly, smiling ever so warmly at Jongin. Jongin was a goner, _“Kim Jo—Jongin.”_
> 
> _“Why don’t you have a cup of coffee with me, maybe talking about your problems may help you a bit?”_ Jongin was sure the stranger was a magician. Usually he wouldn’t accept a stranger’s invite for coffee in broad daylight especially from someone old enough so they could be his father. But Jongin just went with it, he didn’t even know why. They sat down for a cup of coffee, 17-year-old Jongin and the stranger Min-Jun that looked like he could be forty. But once the dam was broken, a wave of information broke loose from his lips. He ranted over school, the struggles he and his family had, Taemin…oh Taemin. The way Min-Jun looked at him didn’t go unnoticed by Jongin. Especially when he mentioned that he has a crush on the same gender. The look went from worry to interest, interest in the rest of Jongin. He didn’t know how to act and got all flustered and shy suddenly.
> 
> _“Jongin, you’re underage, but what if I make you an offer? I don’t have a partner and too much money to spend.”_
> 
> Jongin’s eyes went wide, it was a sudden turn of events and he questioned the motifs for a minute. _“Are you asking me to be a sugar baby?”_ Min-Jun was taken aback by the sudden bland whisper, when Jongin leaned closer to his ear. And unnoticed from onlookers, Min-Jun reached for his elbow. He seemed to force his smile, and his fingers were slightly shaking. Glancing to the sides, he fully grasped onto his elbow, slight panic filtering through Min-Jun’s otherwise confident look. He cleared his throat, yet he still seemed to struggle to find the right words, Jongin thought to himself, while looking up at Min-Jun’s expression that fell. He sighed in defeat, looking at Jongin, revealing a truly defeated and helpless expression.
> 
> _“I don’t even know what I’m doing here myself, to be honest, Jongin. This is just as weird and unusual to me as it might be to you. Weird it is really, especially since you should have said no when I asked for your time earlier, you know? I mean, common sense? But I guess we both forgot about such mundane things. And since you’re underage, I just ask for your companionship, spend time with me, let me spend money on you, talk with me. Not more and not less, maybe I can even make time and visit your dance recitals if I have time and if you want._ ” Jongin was taken aback. Never in a million years would he have expected that. Especially since his parents almost never had time because of the workload they had. He was already working as a model for a small change since he was 16 and worked in a convenience store, but it never was enough, not when he wanted to support his parents. Min-Jun was intriguing and something about him made Jongin not even think twice and not hesitate. 
> 
> _“This is definitely weird what we’re doing here, you seem just as confused as I am.”_ He smiled shyly while shaking his head. Looking up through his fringe he sheepishly, maybe a bit desperate for attention, added, _“I turn 18 in less than two months.”_ He almost coughed, his ears suddenly getting hot and he started fidgeting on his seat. He didn’t even have the possible money in mind, but his sexuality that could be explored. _“But, like, this is kinda wrong and per the law, you know on which ground you’re walking, well, so do I. I mean...”_
> 
> _“Not until you’re a legal adult,”_ Min-Jun bore a knowing smile, the side of his lips curling ever so slightly, while he nodded his head in understanding. _“I’m aware of the risky legal ground I’m walking here, and I don’t want you to see me as a predator, even if I might come off as one.”_
> 
> And Min-Jun kept his promise, not touching Jongin until shortly after his birthday, when Jongin finally embraced the fact that he was also interested in men, maybe even more than in women. He wasn’t a virgin, but he was a virgin when it came to the experience with men and Min-Jun was extraordinarily careful with him and what Jongin felt could’ve been love. Yet getting money for something like this, felt weird for Jongin and he talked it through with Min-Jun, time for time, not time for money. At least not when they had sex. Both knew what they did was weird and somewhat forbidden. It could destroy both their reputations, but Jongin had fallen for Min-Jun’s charms and so had the older in return. Min-Jun was not only attractive and way older, but the thrill of the forbidden combination of the whole situation made up of Min-Jun made it just even more attractive and intriguing to Jongin. 
> 
> But that just made his departure from his hometown more painful, not just had he to leave his family behind, but also Taemin and Min-Jun. It was a bittersweet memory. It also was Min-Jun who helped him with his connections before he moved to Seoul, it might be also thanks to Min-Jun that Jongin was able to walk on the international stage at such a young age and out of nowhere.

Especially when Taemin suddenly asked him during the training what happened to the man Jongin had been together with and when Jongin finally realised that he wasn’t in fact talking about Sehun but Min-Jun. That Taemin knew he was not straight. Jongin reprimanded himself for not trusting Taemin enough, but it felt like suddenly a heavy and invisible burden had been lifted from his shoulders. And with Taemin at his side, the military service passed faster than Jongin realised, even if every once in a while, a pang of hurt ripped through his heart, when he didn’t know how Sehun did and how he had left him behind. Even Taemin told him to mend with the older, because what Jongin did to him was unfair. He wouldn’t deserve such ignorance. That made Jongin only feel worse, especially after Sehun took the first round of bullets aimed at Jongin. 

Once he was out of the military, he would buy a new phone and had to track down Sehun somehow, at least to apologise, but deep down he still had feelings for Sehun, but he wouldn’t know if Sehun felt the same. But sooner than he anticipated, his day of discharge happened, and he lay in Taemin’s arms at the gate, promising that they will keep contact from now on, Jongin had already pocketed Taemin’s phone number.

“Oh, that’s a nice motorbike out there,” Taemin gushed, pointing at the opposite site of the street, but Jongin swatted his hand away, when he saw the driver looking over to them, helmet on. “Tae, that’s rude, you know that.”

“I know, I know, but I mean, look at it.” Taemin was still head over heels. Meanwhile Jongin started to get a weird feeling, his guts telling him something was wrong. He had checked beforehand which bus he should take to the train station. His sister in Seoul had managed the move of his belongings from his old apartment to her apartment complex, where a small unit was enough for him. He might probably have to start from either the very beginning or look for an office job. The payment he received mostly went into the new apartment, his sister also helping out.

While he stood before the departure list of the bus, he picked up the motorbike starting, the sound closing in as if the driver turned around. The engine stopped behind him and the kickstand was meeting the ground, the hydraulics relaxing when the driver got off. Jongin got somewhat scared, but just because he couldn’t tell what was going on, usually it was next to impossible to scare him in any way. He didn’t move a centimetre, when the helmet met some metal and the crumpling of a leather pants resounded in his ears. How did he find him?

“Running away from me again?” The deep, condescending, and stoic voice made his knees weak, if he would always get greeted like that, he would always run just to be caught again, maybe he was just a masochist. He let his backpack slide down his back, standing still with his head hung low. Shame overcame him and he felt the prickling of tears in his nose. He felt so ashamed and suddenly everything came rushing back after 18 months. He felt Sehun pressing against him and his arms circling around his middle, “Will you run away again?” He shook his head in denial, tears overflowing while his shoulders shook, and he grasped for Sehun’s hands holding him. He pushed back the consequences for long, yet he wasn’t ready to accept his punishment just yet. On one hand, he wanted to turn away from Sehun—he might let him go, maybe. But on the other hand? Would he really?

He went slack in Sehun’s arms and Sehun took it as an invitation to press his lips against Jongin’s neck. “Come with me, I’ll get you home,” he whispered against the goosebumps prickled skin of Jongin’s neck, while he loosened his hold on him. One hand on the younger’s hip, he bends down to pick up the backpack which was ridiculously light compared to his day back then. He manoeuvred him over to his motorbike and caught the side of a young man staring at him—the man Jongin had in his arms before. Did he really move on? Was he overstepping boundaries? He stared back, before turning Jongin around, facing him. The backpack was put away on the motorbike, before he held Jongin’s face in his hands. Jongin still looked as beautiful as before, his tan more prominent, highlighting his features a lot more and making his eyes shine. He was perfect.

Sehun leaned in and Jongin automatically closed his eyes, as if they hadn’t been apart for so long. Jongin’s lips were chapped and dry, a light sunburn on his face like freckles framing his face and Sehun couldn’t be more in love with him. Yet he wasn’t sure if Jongin felt somewhat still the same or if he was just confused. Sehun didn’t ask after all. Jongin held onto Sehun, while his hands held Jongin’s head in a deadlock, inclining his head to have better access to the plush lips he missed so dearly. He licked against his lips, coating them in his own saliva. Jongin leaned further into his embrace and from his lips fled a muffled moan when Sehun licked into the wet cavern. Jongin’s own tongue welcoming him in a curl. A needy whimper suddenly embraced Sehun’s senses. He felt Jongin pressing against him and through the leather pants, he felt Jongin already getting hard. Sucking one final time at Jongin’s lower lip, pulling the sensitive skin between his teeth, he was welcomed by a flushed Jongin with half-lidded eyes and a truly needy expression on his face, flushed from everything. His lips were already deep red and a bit swollen, who knows from how long and intense Sehun kissed him. With a final peck, Sehun spoke up, “Let’s get you home, so you can’t run away again.” He once again let his eyes roam over Jongin’s build before diverting his attention to the man that stood still at the gate, something akin to shock in his face. Sehun turned around, clasping his hand around Jongin’s rough one, and pulling him to the motorbike. The younger, ripped out of his trance, stumbled along until he came to a halt at the vehicle. Sehun carefully pushed the extra helmet over Jongin’s head before wiping the rest of the tears away with the pads of his thumbs. Pulling over his own helmet and the gloves again, he swung his leg over the motorbike. Motioning Jongin towards him, the younger wriggled his arms through the straps of the backpack and secured the horizontal belt-straps before his chest and hip after Sehun gave him a kidney belt and another jacket. Once he was seated on the motorbike, his strong thighs pressing against Sehun’s legs and sliding further into him, pressing his chest against Sehun. He reached for Jongin’s hands to clasp them around his middle after the younger secured his backpack securely on his back. “Hold on tight, love.”

For once Sehun was happy to have a vacation home at the ocean on the west coast of South Korea and that’s where he would bring Jongin for the meantime, he just wanted to have a week alone with his lover, if he was still his though. The final photoshoot had to wait a bit more. Jongin wouldn’t be able to run from him at the ocean.

He wasn’t sure how good Jongin was with motorbikes, but he chose an especially long route, as much seaside as he could get. The sea wasn’t what he wanted, not this one at least. He missed the rough and cold breezes from the English Channel back in France, the winds that felt like cutting his face, the ones in Winter. He might have spent most of his youth in France, but since he moved to Korea, he couldn’t go there often. The ocean around Korea was just a substitute for him, but maybe this would change.

The route he had chosen was a good 500 kilometres, so he could enjoy Jongin pressed into him as long as possible. Sehun still didn’t know if Jongin kissed him just back in the spur of the moment and if he would leave him right away, once he was in Seoul. He didn’t speed as much as he usually would, because he wasn’t alone on the bike this time. It might’ve been different if he had Kyungsoo on board. Even if the smaller didn’t drive that often anymore, but for someone who drove races in his spare time, he was still so used to it, he sometimes reacted even before Sehun on the bike when he was just the passenger. On the highway near the interchange, Jongin suddenly pressed his fingers into his right side. Sehun wasn’t sure, but maybe Jongin had to use the toilet, but he wasn’t sure until he would ask. And a cigarette wouldn’t harm him. Slowing down, he set the indicator to get off his lane and the highway, yet somehow Jongin managed to keep him on the bike and on the road. When he was off the highway and on a smaller side road he slowed further down, opening his visor. He waited for Jongin to do the same, while still going. “Follow the street signs to Sancheong, I’ll lead you,” he heard Jongin shout. The first thing he heard from him in such a long time. The melodious timbre, dripping like honey, of his voice stirred something in Sehun and if he hadn’t mastered the art of self-control, he might not have been able to control himself.

Jongin took over from there, pointing where he had to go and drive, they passed by Sancheong and near the suburbs of the city. The part wasn’t the nicest, Sehun could tell. But he wouldn’t call it suburbs as well, this seemed to be farmland in a broader sense, the fields got wider and the population sparse, but at the next section, Jongin pointed him right again, back to the city. Now, this was a suburb. 

“You can stop over there,” Jongin leaned even closer into him, his grip turning tighter around his middle. Once he stood and turned off the engine, Jongin almost jumped down from the bike. He pulled off the helmet and expectantly looked at Sehun, moving up and down on his heels. Sehun wasn’t sure if he was either looking at a very bouncy puppy or kid, or if Jongin just had a 180 regarding his mood. And he was scraping his mind for information about the city, since Jongin mentioned it. But as much information his brain could possess, this piece was missing, if it was there at all in the first place. “Hurry up!”

Jongin clearly didn’t know what to do with the helmet, that much was clear to Sehun, judging from the way he was trying to grab the backstraps with his helmet still in hand. “Give me a minute, I’m not the youngest anymore and I need to stretch.” And Sehun’s definition of stretching was also off if he meant getting out of his helmet and him retrieving cigarettes and a lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated <3


	3. Chapter 3

Sehun was still unbelievably sexy with his stoic expression and the cigarette hanging from his lips. And the way he pushed back his hair and styled it blinded by just carding his fingers through it after he’d taken the helmet off? Something about his resting face made Jongin’s stomach churn with barely contained excitement. He could drop to his knees straight away and would do what Sehun wanted. That Jongin was with his head in the clouds most of the ride, was an understatement. He was giddy, giddy to the point he could vomit. He wasn’t sure if something had changed between them, but the way Sehun treated him… he should man up and ask him. If he wanted him back, after he pissed off like that… He felt like Sehun should be angry with him, he would understand it.

But he didn’t expect Sehun to pull him towards himself by his belt loop, looking up to him, while he still sat on the motorbike. Jongin stumbled into him and braced himself against his shoulder. Sehun looked up to him, suddenly looking devilish and a smirk was dancing around his cigarette. Using his unoccupied hand, he pulled his cigarette away, smoke coiling from his nostrils and it felt like Jongin’s head broke through the ice and everything was suddenly clear, yet his head wasn’t. Sehun’s hand reached for Jongin, locked around the nape and Jongin felt the tip of the filter pressing against his nape before he was pulled down. Sehun tasted like smoke and it was an undeniably disgusting taste. His tongue slid against his with force and Jongin opened himself to Sehun, welcoming the taste of cigarettes and something else. His tongue coiled around Sehun’s and he inclined his head, giving Sehun permission to discover his wet cavern more. Teeth clanked and Sehun hungrily sucked at his tongue, sliding off it and biting harshly down on his lower lip. Jongin stifled a moan and Sehun pulled him closer by his ass while devouring his soul. It didn’t hit Jongin straight away that someone could see them, in broad daylight on the street, just metres away from his parents’ home. It didn’t hit him that someone could see them, talk, gossip. He was too lost in the taste of Sehun and a whimper crawled through his vocal cords, escaping his slightly swollen and slick lips with need, the thin line of spit breaking between them, breaking their connection.

He came back to the ground of common sense and his face felt aflame. No-one in this part of the city was supposed to know that he was with a man, that he was bisexual. People were gruesome and judgmental, conservative, and unforgiving in this part of town. But with Sehun it felt different, the thrill of the danger too addicting. Sehun really did tangle him up in something he wasn’t supposed to be in. He knew it, but his mind was too cloudy to accept that he was on such thin ice that he could break through it at any time again.

Sehun let go of him, swinging his legs over the motorbike to get off, and Jongin felt how severely he was thirsting for everything that was Sehun. He suddenly understood how some crazed fans were so thirsty for Sehun. It’s not like he read their tweets sometimes and he stumbled across some pretty disturbing stuff including the man of his desire and himself. Maybe he was just horny for the older. Most probably. Shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts that were tainting his mind, he realised he was staring at Sehun who stood before him, gazing at him with an expression that told Jongin exactly what he didn’t want to know. Sehun knew where his thoughts were straying. Sehun’s hand under his back pack pressed him flush against him, whispering in his ear, in a way that couldn’t be dirtier. “Jongin, you shouldn’t stare so much, you’re getting hard.” Sehun was taunting him and Jongin suddenly regretted having brought him there. It suddenly felt wrong, it was thoughtless and rash. What did he think by bringing him here, to his hometown, to his parents? And why did Sehun give off such dangerous vibes since day one?

Jongin backed away, suddenly uneasy. He wasn’t sure if it was the best idea. He didn’t even know where he was standing with Sehun.

“So, I’m going to meet your parents now, or am I supposed to stand around?” Sehun’s face was back into its resting position, but there was still something raging in his eyes that pulled Jongin back in. He was fucked. Then it hit, “Wait, how do you know my parents live here?” Sehun just ominously shrugged with his shoulders, “Intuition, I guess, I mean, why would you bring me to a remote place like this instead?”

Sehun stepped closer, cupping the side of Jongin’s face. He pressed his lips to Jongin’s cheek, “Lead the way.” Jongin couldn’t help but get confused. This Sehun was somehow different from the one he remembered, yet still the same. Did something happen while he was gone?

Once he stood before his parents’ door, he hesitated to press the doorbell, suddenly anxiety coming over him. How would his parents react? How was he supposed to introduce Sehun? As sunbaenim? Hyung? But before he could process what was happening an arm reached past him, pressing the bell in his wake. Just shortly after, the door opened and a small woman stuck her head out, something akin to suspicion on her face as if she wasn’t expecting guests. She wasn’t, she didn’t know Jongin would be discharged today, he didn’t plan on coming here. “Jongin? Is that you?”

“Mother.” Jongin suddenly felt like crying, he didn’t see her since he last visted. His fingers grabbed the steel bars of the gate, staring lovingly at her. “I’m back.” She rushed to the gate, opening it with shaky hands, almost dropping the key, before she pulled him into a bear hug while he was already a sobbing mess. “Oh, you brought someone?” She asked abruptly, loosening her embrace around her son. Shoot, Jongin forgot about Sehun for a second. But before he could interrupt, Sehun already bowed deeply to his mother, offering his hand, “I’m sorry for the unexpected appearance, Mrs. Kim. I’m a co-worker of your son Jongin, we’ve modelled before together. I hope I don’t intrude or am stepping over boundaries, by picking up your son today and now appearing here.” Jongin never saw Sehun speaking so honey-like like this, it was almost manipulating. And he felt somehow hurt, co-worker. But it might be for the best. How would he have explained it better?

“Oh, come one in, boys, you must be tired. Where did you park, Mr...?” She looked sweetly at him.

“Sehun, Oh Sehun, Mrs. Kim,” this time his smile was just disarming. Jongin stared again. If Sehun would smile like this more often, he might’ve a hard time.

“Mr. Oh,” she definitely was smitten by Sehun by now, Jongin saw it.

“I parked over there; I hope it’s okay?” He still smiled, throwing a thumb over his shoulder, down the road, but this time his eyes were directed to Jongin whose heart suddenly plunged into the great unknown and he felt the heat creeping from his nape to his face.

“Oh boy, a motorcycle? You can park on our ground, ‘might be better, sweetheart. And you, Jongin, come on in, your father is working. He’ll be so happy to see you back. Are you staying for dinner? Or tonight? What about your colleague?” She bombarded him with questions, while Sehun was sauntering away to fetch his engine. He turned his face to Jongin, a smirk morphing on his face and he winked at Jongin. The younger was done for. He didn’t knew what to expect anymore.

Sehun was on the edge, Jongin’s parents were talking so much, he could have been all along at the ocean with Jongin and God knows what doing to him, but no. How was he supposed to say no to Jongin’s mother when he got the good traits from her? She was a lovely woman, but man, she was pretty unnerving at times and Jongin most definitely had his shyness from his father. Sehun managed to get his father to talk with him and they found out quite fast their common interest in the creative. Even Jongin didn’t know what Sehun was doing for a living, the one beside modelling. Jongin’s father illustrated children’s books in his free time and it melted Sehun’s heart. The small man possessed such creativity, it was a shame he wasn’t able to make a living out of it. Now he was happy that he didn’t talk to Jongin’s parents face-to-face when he was looking for him, otherwise this might’ve been extremely distressing for him and them. And he still wasn’t sure if he did the right thing with picking Jongin up from the camp like this. He somehow lost the ability to read Jongin fully in the last few months. And he felt sorry for interrogating Jongin’s sister like that and trying so aggressively to get information about Jongin’s whereabouts. One half of him was demanding to let Jongin go, if he wasn’t interested in Sehun anymore and the other begged him to stay close to Jongin who could keep him sane. He was a mental mess and reacted imprudent _and_ rash.

When the two stepped back into the living room, Sehun had an illustrated version of a children’s book secured under his arm that he got from Jongin’s father. But the subject of the talk between Jongin and his mother was very unpleasant to his ears.

Jongin had changed clothes in the meantime to plain light washed jeans and a white shirt. He really got a stronger tan and more muscles, he looked delectable with the buzzcut and so buff. Sehun was agitated. Both the prospect of the way Jongin looked now and what his mother was talking about.

“Jongin, the Lee’s have a very sweet girl, she’s working in an office and also living in Seoul. She’s two years younger than you are…” Jongin paled upon seeing Sehun re-entering the room and Sehun knew he looked sour. He knew he was the one saying that they are co-workers. He interrupted, “Jonginnie, it’s getting late, if we start now, we might be at my apartment in one hour and a half without a detour.” Jongin looked relieved, about to answer while he was already nodding his head, but his mother was fast. “But it’s already so late, why don’t you stay the night?” Sehun wasn’t happy, but was he supposed to deny now, she didn’t seem to let them go. Next try, “Well, is there a hotel where I can stay then?”

“Oh, why don’t you stay in Jongin’s room, I’m sorry that we don’t have a guest room, but since his sisters moved out, we got a smaller house,” she looked apologetic. Great… “I guess this could work, but we wouldn’t stay too long, I wouldn’t want to impose on your hospitality.” Sehun responded, keeping an eye on Jongin who was gnawing on his lower lips, visibly distressed. “But where will Jongin sleep if I crash in his room?”

“Oh, Jonginnie, would be the couch okay here?” his mother asked. Sehun shook his head, “That won’t do any good, I think he needs a bed after his time in the military. Jongin, when you showed me around, I saw that you had a couch in your room that should be big enough to comfortably fit me?” He held up his hand towards Jongin’s mother. “I’m okay with sleeping in the same room as Jongin and I like hiking and camping, so I’m used to way worse sleeping conditions.” Jongin raised an eyebrow and looked at Sehun suspiciously. He wanted answers. And Sehun only wanted to sleep in the same room as Jongin whose bed was big enough to fit both of them. As if he would sleep on the couch.

It took him some convincing on his side, but he managed to get through the woman’s thick skull and got what he wanted. Jongin’s sometimes surfacing stubbornness was definitely a trait he had from his mother, even if it was more subtle in him. He worked so long till he got it. Sehun had seen that, when Jongin was introduced to him through gossip. Even if he got into the industry through connections, it was justified. The boy had talent and the body and had captivated him from the moment he saw the first photos of him in a more professional setting and his first walk. Sehun had sat in the second or third row, because he didn’t want to be on the silver plate. But the sight of Jongin stole his breath away and everyone else’s as well. He knew back then that he had to act fast, but what a shame that Jongin was working with a different fashion house, Lee Min-Jun had done a good job promoting the boy and Sehun would steal him away. And that he did.

Sehun stepped out of the shower, wiping his hair dry. Jongin, looking at his reflection in the mirror, stared at him taken aback. Somehow the younger wasn’t expecting Sehun to get out of the shower stark naked and his lips fell open, toothbrush hanging dangerously close to falling. His eyes dropped, before they shut close and Jongin looked anywhere else, but not Sehun’s direction. His cheeks gradually won colour and he started fidgeting.

“Like what you see?” Sehun walked up to him and caged him against the sink. He pressed into Jongin who was only wearing his pajamas. The younger choked on his toothpaste and spit it out, pressing his back side more into Sehun who reached for his hips, to hold him there. Once he had calmed down, Jongin realised what kind of compromising position he found himself in, and he turned his head towards Sehun. His face was red enough to mask the sunburn he had on his face.

A quite _Sehun_ escaped his lips, and Sehun rolled his hips against him. “My parents…” Jongin tried to object, but he stifled a moan instead. “They went already to bed when you were under the shower, love,” Sehun purred into Jongin’s ear, when he leaned over him and left a kiss on his ear shell. He nuzzled his nose into Jongin’s buzz cut that smelled like cheap soap. Jongin’s mother was worried that her household wasn’t up to Sehun’s standard but he sweet-talked her into the fact that it was okay.

He knew that Jongin came from a low-class working family from his extensive research. But he never cared about that in the first place, not after Jongin had already stolen his sanity in the first night.

He detached himself from Jongin who he knew was hard already. Drying himself, he slid into the pyjama he got from Jongin. It seemed to be older, but it was comfortable. Though, he let Jongin see that he skipped the underwear and it made Jongin just redder in the face. The outline of Sehun’s half hard dick was very visible through the thin cloth. Sehun also wasn’t used to sleeping in clothes, he preferred sleeping naked anyway. With a final wink, he left the bathroom and strolled over to the room he would share with Jongin. And to be honest, Sehun felt giddy. It felt like staying over at your friend's place back in school. For once, it was less about the prospect of having Jongin to himself and doing things to him, but just the possibility of having him in his arms while sleeping. It drove him mad with anxiety when Jongin went AWOL and his health lacked from the serious insomnia. And it took Kyungsoo to share a bed with Sehun until he was used to sleeping alone again. Oh, how sweet routine was. And it was an extreme necessity for Sehun mentally. People and even Jongin weren’t aware of how strict and close knitted his daily routine actually was. Could it change or should he focus on his well-being instead?

He flopped into the bed, face-first. Sprawled like a starfish, he waited for Jongin who tiptoed into the room shortly after him. Jongin snorted, before he was bewitched by a fit of giggles and dropped himself on Sehun. Sehun himself was smiling stupidly into the covers he was laying on. Sometimes he should let himself go a bit and laugh more, Kyungsoo told him that too.

“Jongin, can you get up?” Sehun turned around the best he could, but Jongin refused to budge and did a koala on him, shaking his head in denial. “Jonginnie, let me see you.” He tried again, but Jongin wasn’t having one bit of it. He was too shy. A side he didn’t show too often.

“Sehun, I’m sorry. I think I had enough time in the military to think about it. I—I shouldn’t have run away like that,” his voice was very soft and whispery. “But, but it was too much for me, suddenly, all of it, you know? I mean, I’m grateful for you keeping the coast clear for me, but, but when…when that thing happened…” He felt sobs invading his senses, he never talked about it, how it destroyed him, also because he went into hiding two days later. It took him nine months into his military service, that he finally was strong enough to look up the aftermath. Taemin didn’t really understand what was going on, until Jongin himself somewhat explained that the guy having the press conference and who looked very, very angry and dangerous was his “friend.” He only said friend, not able to actually tell him that the man in the video was in fact his boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend. He wasn’t sure at that point. He loosened his grip on Sehun who turned around somehow and pulled him into his chest, whispering that everything was okay now until Jongin fell asleep. 

That his mother was confused and not happy about the two men sleeping in one bed, was one thing, at least she only saw Sehun’s revealed chest and not that he also hadn’t pulled on the pants again after he indulged himself in Jongin. The back sore and pleasant burn were worth it. Much to Jongin’s surprise who thought he got dressed after what they did, when he was presented with glorious morning wood by the older. He even felt ashamed looking at it and hid his face in the pillows.

Jongin felt like fleeing from his parents with how fast Sehun wanted to leave. Sehun had argued with a new contract for Jongin and that the new employer wanted him as soon as possible and that he was sorry that he wouldn’t leave Jongin and his parents much time after the military. Jongin now was glad he had visited them when he was on vacation, so his mother was a bit more lenient that Sehun was rushing so much. He had whispered something along the lines of “I want you all to myself when I devour you” and it sounded very dirty to Jongin, but he didn’t want to complain. But he didn’t expect the supposed one-and-a-half-hour ride to be double that amount and, if it worked out, at the shore of Korea. And he didn’t expect Sehun to have a small beach cottage with a private beach. How much money had the man anyway?

Yet, it felt as if Jongin had never left. Not when he laid sprawled out in the sand, butt naked and letting the sun burn down on him.

“Sehun, why don’t you come get a bit sun as well?” Jongin only turned his face in the general direction of Sehun who sat next to him under a sunscreen. Sehun’s hands were surprisingly cool when a finger slid along his jaw, “Can’t, next job. They want _fair_ skin, but I’ll roast in the sun after that. But lemme cream you.”

“That sounds more dirty, than you probably intended,” Jongin yawned and enjoyed the ministrations he received, when the finger followed each curve and dip in his face, lingering on the corner of his lips, before dipping at his lower lip. He yawned again and the finger retreated.

“You shouldn’t fall asleep in the sun, love.” Sehun really sounded loving, Jongin heard in his tone when he was smiling. Cracking an eye open, he was awarded with the sight of a serene looking Sehun, who gazed down on him from his chair, nibbling on his pinkie while looking at him.

Jongin grabbed for him. Diving straight to the feet and Sehun ripped his foot away, wheezing, but Jongin was faster and had it in a death grip and mercilessly tickled the older, barely avoiding being kicked. Pulling Sehun down and under him, he continued tickling him. Sehun was screaming and giggling like a madman, tears shining in his eyes. “St-stop, I give up. I surrender!” He was shaking and struggling to breath properly. But when he calmed down, he looked up at Jongin, his hair a mess and gripped onto his hips, a smirk creeping on his face. Jongin realised belated why, even if he was in the military and was supposed to have strength, Sehun was still stronger. He was straddling Sehun, naked. He flushed like crazy and choked on nothing but air, trying to scramble away, but Sehun just flipped him over, peppering his neck and throat with kisses and sucks that weren’t hard enough to break the skin.

Their stay at the cottage seemed to come to a quick end and reality started to claw its way into Jongin’s consciousness. He was supposed to get a job, a new phone, he still didn’t even was able to think about it. 

Jongin sneaked into Sehun’s office where he knew he would find the older. But he was surprised to see him leaned and brooding over a table with what seemed to be a storyboard? Or for something similar. He had the same look on his face when he was modelling, something akin to vulnerability but there was also seriousness, it was almost scary. “Jongin,” he didn’t even look up, “Come here for a second, we didn’t talk about this yet—” He was interrupted, when he motioned Jongin over and sneaked a hand around his waist.

He accepted the call on speaker, _“Was about fucking time you call.”_

In lieu of a greeting the other person shoot back, _“You fucking piece of shit, you were supposed to pick up Jongin from his base and be back three days later max. I have a fucking tight schedule you plague rat.”_ Jongin was taken aback, the caller and Sehun were shooting insults back in force in English. But Jongin was able to understand most of it and his ears were ringing.

“Kyungsoo-yah, love,” Sehun suddenly purred the name and only then Jongin understood who he was talking to. He wouldn’t forget the scary meetings he had with the small tailor.

 _“Sehun, I’ll rip your ass open, when you are not here by this late afternoon. And I’ll burn everything. Be glad Chan asked our friend for the hairstyling and his sister for make-up. But when you’re not here by then, I’ll burn everything.”_ Something about that got Sehun rigid and Jongin tightened his hold around him, whispering soothing words to him, but the next thing even took Jongin by surprise, He never heard someone so hurt. And he never heard Kyungsoo calling anyone hyung. _“Hyung, this collection is as important to me as it is to you, we’ve worked so long on it already. Please, for the love of whatever deity has possessed you—don’t mess it up. And Jongin, I know you’re listening. This will be your comeback. I know Sehun long enough, that I know that he didn’t talk about it with you. You’re a centrepiece of this collection, together with that good-for-nothing boyfriend of yours. We’re going to catapult you right back into the scene. All malicious attempts at you will be sued immediately.”_ Kyungsoo calling Sehun his boyfriend suddenly made him giddy, but it all went so fast.

“What kind of collection are you talking about?” Jongin was confused. A snort was heard, and it came from Kyungsoo, Sehun had his face hidden in Jongin’s shoulder and only then did he see the red sheen in his nape and how he gripped the material of Jongin’s tank top. Oh Sehun was embarrassed. 

_“Wait a second, I’m going to video call you.”_ The call was cut short and just a couple seconds later the phone vibrated again with a video call. Jongin, unsure, accepted the call. First grainy and very pixelated, a silhouette was present before the call came through completely. Jongin was taken aback to see the tailor, without a shirt and goddamn was he ripped and inked. He and Sehun were slim and well built, because of their job, even if Jongin gained a lot of muscles during his training, but holy shit. _“Did you stare enough?”_

Now it was Jongin’s turn to be embarrassed.

Close to his ear, Sehun suddenly whispered into his ear, “Didn’t expect him to be that hot?” He spoke louder, facing the camera, his ears still red. “Kyungsoo, you’re confusing my boyfriend. Can you put something on?”

 _“No? Why would I?”_ Kyungsoo seemed to be as stoic as ever, something Jongin always connected to him. But he seemed to flirt, there was something playful at the edges of what he said. Sehun could be stoic, but Kyungsoo? He never saw him smile, like a genuine smile. Maybe smirk, but that was about it. He saw the tailor squinting at him through the screen, _“Man, Jongin, you’re aware you got a weird head shape for a buzzcut?”_ He didn’t know how to answer, but Kyungsoo continued anyway. _“It’s a shame your hair is so short now, it would’ve been more suitable if it was longer, but that ain’t a problem. Now look down at the table you’re standing at. Sehun, keep your hands off the boy and let him concentrate.”_ Sehun retraced his hands from Jongin’s skin where he was rubbing circles on it.

Jongin’s eyes flitted down to the mass of sketches and prints on the table and still didn’t understand. Some prints caught his eye. Some were sort of disturbing, the art prints he was looking at. He had no idea about art. Sehun back hugged him again, while Jongin was picking up some prints with his unoccupied hand. “Tell him what you’re looking at,” hot breath fell over his ear shell and a shudder crawled down his spine.

“I—I think I saw similar paintings in school. Is it Jesus and, I can’t remember the other man’s name…” Jongin was confused and Sehun understood. He was taught so much about Christianity in school in France and that also meant French, Dutch, Belgian, Italian and even German art, especially the ones during the Renaissance. And Religious Education was his worst and most hated subject, but mainly because of the teacher. In Korea he started to miss that subject more and more and understood what it gave him. “That’s the Judas’ kiss. You might have heard about it. He’s betraying Christ by showing the guards who he is. It’s from Caravaggio.”

Jongin pointed at the other paintings near it. “Same subject, but different artists,” Sehun answered and left a kiss on Jongin’s shoulder. He caught the eye of Kyungsoo through the screen and the faintest of smiles on his lips, he smiled equally faintly back, hoping Kyungsoo would get the message. Jongin was oblivious of the non-verbal exchange between the two old friends. Instead he picked up another photo but turned it around to show it Kyungsoo instead this time, maybe Sehun was a bit jealous, also because of the way Jongin addressed Kyungsoo.

“ _Hyung_ , what is this?” Kyungsoo was clearly taken aback since the question was directed at him, and not the guy that actually studied art. Something no-one knew outside this circle. _“Are you testing me?”_

Jongin happily nodded his head and Sehun fell in love a bit more. How he missed Jongin. _“Guess it’s about time for a bible course when you’re back, Jongin. Did even have Religious Education in school? But I might forgive you, even if it is probably one of the most well-known scenes out of the Old Testament.”_ He shook his head in disbelief, but he and Sehun had a different educational background then Jongin. _“Why don’t you ask Mister Know-It-All behind you. He seems jealous.”_ Of course, Kyungsoo was spot on.

“Because I want to know from you. I didn’t speak to anyone else except him last week and that can become boring quickly.” Sehun’s eyes bulged out of its sockets. Did Jongin just call him boring, when did he became so savage? But Kyungsoo didn’t seem to be better. His face fell, before he recollected himself and suddenly started to laugh. He was genuinely laughing and Sehun felt his heart swell. Kyungsoo was opening up to Jongin, but the younger one didn't know that. He just had the audacity to blush and keep his wide and big eyes trained on Kyungsoo. Sehun let his hand brush past Jongin’s stomach and brought him back. “Don’t look at another man like this, Jongin, and don’t dare blushing at them like that. Or I have to punish you later when we’re alone or would you like that?” He whispered menacingly into Jongin’s ear, while Kyungsoo tried to calm down. His words did its job and Jongin seemed to be already slightly uncomfortable and he switched weight on his legs. “Good boy.”

 _“Sehun, stop chastising the poor boy and talk dirty to him. He’s young, let him be. I bet he saw enough handsome men in the military and more of them as he would like.”_ Kyungsoo shook his head and was smiling, while wiping his face of tears.

“By the love of God, don’t remind me, Kyungsoo. I don’t even want to think about the fact that my babe saw other men naked.” Sehun pouted, something he didn’t do often, and he caught Jongin’s eyes who looked a lot like in love suddenly, how his eyes were switching between his eyes and lips.

_“Sehun, stop distracting the poor boy. Where were we? Ah, right. The brother murder, Cain and Abel.”_

“Ah, I think I heard about that, but I wouldn’t know the details of it.” Jongin piped up, while sneaking glances through the screen at Sehun.

 _“Cain murdered his brother, blinded by betrayal and envy, because God chose Abel’s sacrifice over his. This was done by Tiziano if I remember correctly?”_ Sehun nodded his head to confirm it.

They went through the rest of the paintings and Jongin asked the older men, each in return what he was looking at until they came to the last photo, the one he thought was most disturbing.

 _“We’re talking about that painting when you’re here, Jongin.”_ Kyungsoo's voice was smaller than before, but it went unnoticed by Jongin. _“If you two get on the motorbike in the next hour, you’re here early enough and Jongin, don’t think too much about finding a job. We’ve got your back here. Just keep a low profile when you’re here. You’re under my thumb anyway while you’re here.”_

“I don’t understand, I mean, I have an apartment and a sister to visit?” Jongin was confused.

“I contacted your sister already and explained it to her. She wasn’t happy, but I promised here that you’ll contact her as soon as you have a new phone and when you set foot back in Seoul,” Sehun tugged him tighter to himself, nuzzling the crook of the neck. “We need your whole and undivided attention.”

Kyungsoo interrupted, _“What I actually meant was, Sehun moved in with me for the meantime. He should explain without me why. You deserve to know and it’s not my place to explain your boyfriend to you. And you’re staying in my, our, guestroom for the meantime, except you decide to share Sehun’s momentarily bedroom with himself. I’ve gotta go and prepare the rest. If you guys aren’t here in four hours, I’ll hunt you down. Later!”_ Kyungsoo cut the call and the screen turned black. Sehun realised how much Kyungsoo trusted him, and Jongin as well, at this point. Otherwise he wouldn’t have talked so much in front of Jongin and wouldn’t have answered his questions more thoroughly. Something he preferred not to do.

“He likes you, Jonginnie.” Sehun turned Jongin finally around and caged him against the desk, aware that the wood was pressing into Jongin’s lower back and suddenly heaved him up, Jongin squealing from shock before he started giggling. His high-pitched giggling was the cutest thing to Sehun, and he was quite happy that Jongin was at least in that department different from him. But even if he spent a week with him, it still felt unreal to him to have the younger back in his arms. Standing between Jongin’s legs, he massaged the naked thighs under his hands and nibbled at Jongin’s jaw before the younger pulled his face closer and dropped a few kisses that turned longer and sensual with every new skin contact. Sehun let Jongin take the lead and opened his lips more, when Jongin licked against them, granting his tongue access, and welcomed it with a curl of his own. It turned more heated when Jongin tugged hard at his hair and enclosed his legs around Sehun’s waist, pressing into him. Just shortly after a moan from the younger when he created more friction their teeth clanked, and Jongin almost wheezed into Sehun’s mouth and pulled away. He was a giggling mess and the age difference showed, but it just made Sehun happy. Rubbing circles on his naked skin with his thumbs, Sehun left a peck on his chin, “Jongin, I know we didn’t talk about it, but since Kyungsoo also dropped it. Are we still an item?” Jongin’s eyes dropped to the ground, away from Sehun’s searching eyes.

“I’m sorry, again, that I ran away. It was just suddenly so much, and I just wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I guess I wasn’t thinking straight, and I betrayed you in some sorts. Not trusting in you,” tears welled up in Jongin’s eyes, and Sehun hushed him with a kiss.

“Love, don’t think about it too much, I’m glad enough you accepted me back, even if I ambushed you…”

“No, I should be the one grateful, Sehun. I, I love you—” Jongin’s eyes went wide and he clasped his hands over his mouth, his eyes comically wide-eyed. Sehun also had problems processing what happened just now. They never told each-other that it was apparently very consensual, the feelings they shared. Sehun was never sure and was sometimes even sure Jongin was only with him because Sehun felt like he manipulated him. After the initial shock, a smile bloomed on Sehun’s face and he smiled into the kiss. “Jongin, thanks for sharing the same sentiment as me.” He pulled back and Jongin was redder than his sunburn, but he was smiling just as stupidly in love as Sehun felt.

Jongin was the one to usher them faster to Seoul in the end, because he was suddenly very adamant on knowing about the painting Kyungsoo refused to talk about and he needed more background info, because neither Kyungsoo nor Sehun explained what the collection was, they only talked about art and he wasn’t any wiser.

Seoul was a sensory overload for Jongin, it was so vastly different from where he was stationed or where his parents lived. It was just big, loud, full, and just a mess. But Sehun mainly passed by downtown Seoul and neared the more prestigious parts. Half an hour later, they were almost past Seoul again, when he slowed down in a residential area. There were some bigger houses and some smaller, most had a garden upfront. It was a heart-warming sight to the point that even kids played on the street, some stopping and staring until they seemingly recognised the motorcycle and hysterically waved with their little hands. Jongin was melting at the side because that’s what he loved. Familiarity, kids and this part of Seoul he didn’t know existed. He was pulled out of his reverie, when Sehun pulled into a driveway and stopped before the garage. Patting Jongin’s leg, the younger slid off the bike, stretching his legs. He pulled off his helmet and watched Sehun doing the same, wiping his forehead from the sweat that accumulated under it. 

“Welcome to your temporary home, Jongin.” Sehun smiled and walked up to him, sneaking a hand around his waist and pecking his lips. Jongin was taken aback and shocked, he clasped his hands over his mouth and stared incredulously at Sehun. He kissed him in broad daylight, what about neighbours?

“Don’t worry, Jongin.” A deep voice pulled Jongin out of his shock and before him stood Kyungsoo in shorts and a wifebeater, he wasn’t even wearing shoes. “Sehun basically introduced himself to the neighbours as gay. The grandma next door is totally living for it. She’s kind of weird but uncharacteristically open-minded.” Two dogs were trotting up to Jongin, sniffing him cautiously, but they were all over Jongin once he squatted down and started petting him. The whole scenery, the house, the dogs, the residential area. It felt all like a dream. “Pepper and Ink, my children.” Kyungsoo pointed at the two dogs enjoying the belly scratches Jongin bestowed them with. If Kyungsoo’s fond expression was anything to go by, he would kill for his dogs.

“No offence, _hyung_ , but I never took you for the dog-type.” Jongin looked up at him, slowly getting out of his crouch.

“There’s a lot people don’t know about me, Jongin.” He scratched his belly before yawning widely, “Shouldn’t’ve taken the nap.” He stemmed his hands into his hips, before yawning again.

“Kyungsoo, did you cook yet?” Sehun crept up to Kyungsoo, who sidestepped him with closed eyes.

“Fuck you, what am I? Your fucking maid? This is my house, rather you should cook and clean for me. But before you set a foot into my kitchen, I’ll skin you alive. Same goes to you, Jongin. I heard you’re also sort of a mess in the kitchen.” Jongin, embarrassed, scratched his ear. It was true, he and Sehun mainly ordered, when he was staying at his place before he enlisted.

Kyungsoo turned back, giving Sehun a glance, who was smoking. Shaking his head without saying anything, he dragged his feet back to the house, whistling for his dogs to follow. “You can go in, he has dinner ready, Jongin. We’ll be in the studio in an hour, you should really eat. That ain’t a very professional shoot with catering.” Sehun gazed in the sky, smoke coiling from his lips when he exhaled the smoke.

“Will you tell me what the collection and all that is about?” Jongin really started to get somewhat annoyed and irritated. Sure, he was excited for the shoot, but all this secrecy started to get to him. He felt his voice getting sharper as Sehun regarded him with a side-eye.

“Betrayal.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sehun was wearing a white loose blouse with hand painted birds. Jongin actually learned that the piece of clothing just arrived the day before and none other than his own father painted the silk shirt. The black satin cummerbund and black dress pants highlighted Sehun’s long torso, but the most eye-catching accessory about him was something else. There, on top of his head, with the black messed up hair, was a golden headpiece adorning his head like a halo. But each spike looked like a thin blade made out pure gold and Jongin pricked his finger when he was too curious. In Addition to the headpiece, half of Sehun’s face was obstructed by the pink baby’s breath. That’s at least what their hair stylist told them. The make-up was somewhat simple, his eyes accentuated with a pink lower lid and framed with dark eyeliner. His lower face was dripping blood, especially in the mouth area. He was kneeling slightly behind Jongin. His hand painfully gripped the younger’s chin, pulling his face back and bearing his throat like a sacrifice to him, the other hand seemingly clawing its way into his throat as well.

There was a thin golden thread appearing from Sehun’s flower crown, cutting twice through his face, wandering along his hands and across Jongin’s throat and the arms that lifelessly hung at the side of his kneeling body. The thighs slightly spread and whole contact with the floor beneath him. He looked defeated and without an ounce of strength left. Just looking at Jongin, drained every strength the onlookers had. He didn’t possess any dignity anymore. The white pants he was wearing—a still fitting relic of his debut, when he wore Monsieur’s suit in lieu of Sehun—had been undone, showing the hair disappearing into his underwear. His lap was garnished with bouquets of white and pink baby’s breath and the gold thread disappeared into those. Jongin was crying, his mouth fallen open in a silent sigh of defeat. 

The two are joined as an unbreakable unit through the gold thread, yet Sehun was about to devour and feast on Jongin. It was unbearably quiet during the shooting itself, no-one had the strength to say something, either too mesmerised by what was happening or out of sheer anguish. It was unusual; for everyone present, even for the models itself. Kyungsoo stood still in the shadows, looking at the make-up artist doing retouching on Sehun. He was glad that his assistant recommended his own sister who worked as stage make-up artist, she was fantastic at what she did. The hair stylist next to him was jumping up and down on their heels, nervous as hell. Tears were brimming in their eyes. Sehun didn’t miss how Kyungsoo comforted them. Especially since they didn’t have a proper and well-paid job in ages in Korea itself, because of their gender. There wasn’t only betrayal in the paintings they re-interpreted. For most of the outfits they didn’t choose models, but people from the street or their neighbourhood. Kyungsoo’s personal favourite was the homeless man he asked for help for the outfit and the reinterpretation of Cain and Abel. Sehun was unsure back then, but Kyungsoo made him interview the man instead of taking photos. Who said they can only take photos? As the interviewee he picked his neighbour, the grandma. She as well as the man could be both counted as representation of Abel and that was what they needed for their concept. Kyungsoo also was quite happy to learn that the homeless man actually had quite the eye for fashion and Sehun tried to get him a job in a small fashion store that was one to pick the outsiders of the society, to give them a chance again in life.

It became late, when Kyungsoo and Sehun decided to send the others home. Chan’s sister finished the looks for the last section, before she went home to her husband, Chan himself had left already as well. His daughter had school the day after. Their hairstylist stayed since Kyungsoo and Sehun offered them to stay the night at their place, because it was too late for the public transport anyway and Kyungsoo could set them off at work the next day, when he had to go to work himself. They were napping on a couch, with their head on Kyungsoo’s lap, facing away from what was happening. Somehow the shooting was emotionally draining for everyone present to some unbearable extents. None of them had ever lived through something like this.

The next photo almost brought even Jongin to real tears this time, but he didn’t want to mess up the make-up artist’s hard work with his stupidity.

Sehun was kneeling before him, pulled up by his hair, his head angled to reveal his crestfallen expression. The silk previously hugging his body like second skin, was pooling around his elbows and where the cummerbund started. His back was revealed, bloody and inked with Seth. The blood was smeared everywhere from his back, arms, and hands that were bound at his back with golden thread, all presented to the viewer. Jongin is looming over him with bloody hands, he’s holding the sharp ends of Sehun's crown against his neck like a knife it represented. His whole body seemed twisted, while Jongin was only bent down to him, having broken the golden thread that connected them before. It laid broken and cut around Sehun, just like the baby’s breath. Trampled and forgotten on the ground, soaked in blood. It was the only thing that was still connected to Sehun through the golden thread. Sehun had been betrayed like the prophecy foretold. Yet, contrary to the actual end of the prophecy, Jongin is clearly about to kill Sehun. 

The prophecy of one of Saturn’s children, Jupiter, overthrowing their father and taking his place on the throne, the depiction of Saturn Devouring his Son by Francisco Goya, the fall of the titans.

“That’s a wrap.” Kyungsoo broke the silence with a loud clap and Jongin slumped down on Sehun, letting go off everything he had in his hands. The shutter of the camera stopped filling the thick silence and everyone started exhaling, mumbling. Dropping on his knees, Jongin reached for Sehun’s face, kissing him senseless. The photographer averted his eyes embarrassed, but Kyungsoo walked up to them, loosening the thread’s hold on Sehun, so he could also reach for his boyfriend. Shaking his head in mock disapproval, Kyungsoo retreated and softly woke up the hair stylist. The photographer would contact him and the others the day after for the selection of the photos he took. In less than a month, the collections for Louis Vuitton and other big players would be revealed. A project featuring a grand total of fantastic photographers, models, and designers. But only Sehun kept silent about the ideas he had, and his fashion label gave him free reign, knowing what he was capable of. This would be also his public debut for something he always had the greatest passion about. But until then, it was still time to find back fully to Jongin and explore and discover him anew. 

Minus Kyungsoo and the hair stylist mumbling about being dejected for having such a hard time for the ten metres of gold thread they’ve interwoven and used on the two other men, now unusable at the ground. There was a clear difference in priorities. Kyungsoo forcefully pulled the two lovers apart with a hard stare, motioning to the mess around them that had to be cleaned up, “Otherwise this will be the last time you used my atelier, Oh Sehun.”

Jongin giggled about the way Sehun duck his head before the younger, who loomed over them with a broom in his head. While tidying up, Jongin asked, “Say, _hyung_ , did you design the clothes?”

“Yes.” “No.” Jongin looked up, confused from the double answer he got. Kyungsoo was pressing the end of his broom against Sehun’s neck, forcing him to look upwards. Sehun, on the other hand, had a sneer on his face. “He meant me, you asshat, you don’t get the savour of being called _hyung_ , Sehun.”

“You’re the worst _hoobae_ I ever had, Soo-yah.” Sehun stuck out his tongue and Jongin wasn’t sure if Sehun really was over thirty already. But his eyes didn’t seem to smile, instead they had a sheen to them, as if they were devoid of something. Jongin’s eyes flitted towards the bigger print of what he and Sehun reinterpreted. He jolted, when he thought the eyes moved and stared at him, before he whipped his head back to stare at Sehun. Sehun’s eyes seemed similar. 

“You didn’t even know what the word meant before you came to Korea, Sehun,” Kyungsoo shook his head, again, but there was no hint of intent and maliciousness in his voice, compared to Sehun. Instead, he looked conflicted and Jongin wasn’t sure what to make of it. But as soon as the facial expressions happened the sooner they were gone and he thought he might have only hallucinated, that he was just tired.

With some struggle, he found his voice back. Yet he still felt like he lost for a moment the grip on the reality and saw the depths of space he wasn’t meant to see. “What do you guys mean by yes and no?” Kyungsoo looked at him funny, as if he said the dumbest shit in his 25 years. Kyungsoo, big-eyed, averted his head back to Sehun. His brows furrowed and he pressed his lips together, “You didn’t tell him yet?”

“Tell me what?” Jongin was still confused. A smack resounded in the room and Sehun held his head in his hands, whimpering. Kyungsoo had smacked him across the back of his head, mumbling about being a fucking irresponsible idiot before stomping off, carrying the props out of the room, the hair stylist hot in his heels. “You okay, Sehun-ah?” With a pained expression, Sehun looked into the general direction of Jongin.

“I deserve it, I guess. For not telling you and stressing Kyungsoo out since you were gone. It was about time he snapped. Just weird he decided to explode only now…” his voice was unusually small; it wasn’t like he was loud in general. His voice was deep, yet soft in its tonal pitch. Jongin had seen Kyungsoo talking to people like that regularly, when he was well acquainted with them, so he took it for his normal but weird way of showing affection, when someone said something dumb. But Sehun calling it snapping? Taking a whiff of the air surrounding them, Jongin made out a faint smell of what he assumed to be smoke, meaning that Kyungsoo might have stepped out for a smoke. “Do you remember the white deconstructed suit?” Of course, Jongin would remember, back then it felt like it was made for him, that’s how well it fitted. He nodded. “I designed it.” He wasn’t sure what to do with his hands, and crossed them behind his back, leaning against the table behind him. “I was supposed to wear it, but…but as you may know I had to leave. I was probably already on the plane, when you, when you woke up.” Jongin felt compelled to ask why he had to leave in the first place, but he bit the inside of his cheek, before he pulled his lower lip between his teeth, letting it go slowly. Sehun’s eyes were narrowed and transfixed on the movement, he stepped closer. “Kyungsoo was the one to actually suggest you. I mean, he was the one to corner me against the wall, after he picked me up from your hotel to drop me off at the airport. He knew from sight alone that you’d be perfect, yet I had seen you, and I knew he was right.” Jongin loosened his arms before crossing them before his chest. Sehun’s choice of words got all weird, “Is that the reason you—”

“Fuck, no.” Sehun stepped closer again, a bewildered expression painted on his face. “Do I look like the type of guy to do that? I’ve never fucked anyone in the industry, except you. And only you.” With these words, he had reached Jongin. Jongin momentarily felt like he was supposed to be hold by these hands alone and never leave them, when Sehun reached for his face, running the pads of his thumbs over his cheekbones, cradling his face like it was the most precious object Sehun had every laid his hands one. He leaned closer, Jongin felt Sehun’s breath fan over his face, while he looked up cross-eyed at Sehun who was leaning over him. His eyes were focused on Jongin’s lips. When Jongin licked over his suddenly dry lips, Sehun’s eyes darkened. He continued in a whispery tone, “Everything designed by Monsieur at Louis Vuitton was me.” It sends a tingle through Jongin’s veins, and it didn’t matter how often Sehun kissed him, he always felt the same electricity raging through his veins. He almost mewled into the kiss, when Sehun strained his face upwards and Jongin had to ground himself by holding on Sehun’s wrists. When Sehun’s tongue slipped past the barrier of his lips with such force, that a tiny muffled moan escaped Jongin’s vocal cords. It was lulled in and welcomed by an approving groan by Sehun, when Jongin wrapped his legs around Sehun’s waist. But they weren't able to continue.

“If you’re getting cocky and fucky in my atelier, I’ll cut off your balls, Sehun. I won’t spare you too, Jongin.” Kyungsoo emerged back into a room and Jongin and Sehun almost jumped away from each other, feeling found out. Even if they weren’t a secret. Kyungsoo had a deadpan expression on his face and he made a wide gesture towards the room. “If you don’t tidy up as well, I swear, Sehun… and maybe you too should clean your faces before you continue making out. You already look like shit and I know for a reason the fake blood will stick to your face. At this point I hope it does.”

“Since when is he talking so much?” Sehun asked himself and spoke Jongin’s thoughts out loud. But for Jongin it was more out of amazement since the tailor had a very pleasing voice, meanwhile annoyance bled into Sehun’s voice.

“Oh Fucking Sehun, just because my eyesight is bad, doesn’t mean my hearing is. Jongin, you’re coming with me. You two won’t stay alone here. Sehun, you may call me if you have finished everything.” Jongin felt like he couldn't argue with Kyungsoo, but he also didn’t want to leave Sehun. Sehun pulled him in, when Jongin stood up, “Just make sure you are awake and prepared when I come home, babe.” Jongin didn’t want to blush, but this whispered threat made his insides all tingle. How was that still possible after all those times?

Nestled into the passenger seat, Jongin fiddled with his fingers. Even if the hair stylist sat behind him in the seat, he still felt intimidated being alone with Kyungsoo like this. He felt like he was even more vulnerable with him than Sehun. Kyungsoo pulled out of the car park, “Taehee?”

“Yes?” the hairstylist answered, and they leaned forwards in their seat. Resting their chin on Jongin’s seat, they looked over to Kyungsoo.

“There’s a package in the foot room behind my seat, could you give it to Jongin?” They pulled their head back and after some shuffling, a hand reached over Jongin’s shoulder and he accepted the package. With curious eyes, he turned it in his hands, before opening it. It was a smartphone, maybe not the newest of the new, but he wouldn’t need that anyway and he wasn’t up to date anyway. “Chan already set most of it up, you still need to input your info. Sehun’s number is innit, Chan’s, mine and the number called ‘Taeminnie’ that slipped out of your backpack.” He didn’t look at Jongin, while speeding over the highway. Jongin felt his face getting warm from embarrassment. “We’re also making a detour, when I dropped Taehee off at my place and we’re getting back into the city.”

“Why?” Jongin was confused, that would be an unnecessary detour by any means.

“Don’t you want to see your new apartment and have it a bit of time to check around, see what you need for the meantime. I mean? Clothes? Sure, you can also wear Sehun’s clothes, but I know that you two have different taste in clothes. Like, a lot.” Taehee waved them goodbye, when Kyungsoo dropped them off at his place and gave them his spare key.

“N—no, you’re right and when Sehun seems to be too much, I can maybe escape once in a while.” Kyungsoo kept silent and pulled a cigarette from the package in the centre console. Lighting it at a stop light, he let the window down and the warm evening air streamed into the air and the smoke from Kyungsoo’s mouth coiled out of the window. 

“Jongin, be cautious of what you say around Sehun. We never really had the chance to talk before you went to the military, but since we’re living under the same roof for the meantime… Sehun is clingy and possessive. You don’t want to see him angry...you don’t. You really don’t want to experience that. I know what I’m talking about. He’s not soft-hearted, of course not Oh Sehun. He’s one of the most durable men I know, but even he has flaws. He has the softest fucking heart I know. He needs time to trust and I know he trusts you almost since the first night he, well, he either fucked or saw you.” Kyungsoo’s bluntness was sometimes still too much for Jongin. 

Thinking back, he was never the recipient of the bluntness others received. But it’s quite possible that Kyungsoo might have had a different stance on him, given that he’s friends with Sehun. And the more he met Sehun, the friendlier Kyungsoo became, when they crossed paths. Some people even tried dragging Kyungsoo into the ‘scandal’ Jongin had. People mumbled that Jongin and Kyungsoo must fuck, because the tailor was visibly more approachable and easy-going in the presence of Jongin. At least that’s how outsiders interpreted it. But Kyungsoo was just very picky with who he was nice too. And the only was seemed to be his boss and co-workers, his assistant, Taehee and himself, Sehun still got a lot of his shit.

Brewing over what Kyungsoo said, Jongin decided to change the subject since his brain was just tired after such a stressful day. Sitting for hours on a motorbike, having just an hour break, before the next six hours of shooting had to be lived through. It was late, nearing midnight at this point. “So, you and Taehee?”

Kyungsoo made a noise of confusion, “Huh?”

“Ehm, I mean not to pry. But are you and Taehee…”

The tailor made a noise of understanding before he started to laugh out loud. “Haha, no, we’re not together. No, no. We met last year at a fashion show, hit it off quite well from the get-go. They got shit from some asshole that loudly exclaimed their assumed gender and displayed quite the Binarism.”

“The what?” Jongin didn’t understand the English word the tailor used.

“Someone displaying discrimination against non-binary people, people that don’t identify with a gender. Taehee told you to either call them by their name or speak informally, trying to not use gender specific terms. Right?” Jongin nodded his head. He had just accepted what the hairstylist told him without questioning it.

“Well, I’m quite vocal about my displeasure with any type of harassment, but the way the guy behaved really made my blood boil and I almost punched that idiot. Yet, he punched me in return. You’ll never see a brawl happening on a fashion show, I swear. And I was so close to hitting his pretty face, I swear, but I’m no idiot and even if I don’t like someone, I won’t hit a model in their face. Anyway, an acquaintance was quick to pull me back and the security handled everything. The guy worked with a pretty big house and they ended the contract on sight. So, he might never work again as a model. Serves him right. Anyway, Taehee came looking for me after the show to thank me. That’s mainly what happened and maybe we had once or twice something, but we’re friends in the first place. Anyway, they're staying at my place, because I’m setting them off at the new job tomorrow, a salon known to mainly have people of different genders and sexualities working at their store. And if I talk any more today, I’ll be hoarse tomorrow.” Kyungsoo cut himself off, a smile playing around his lips. “We’re here. Should I come up with you?”

Jongin looked around confused, slowly recognising the apartment complex his sister is living at. “Wait, how do you know?”

“Asked your sister when I went to her café, it cost me some sweet-talking and shit, but I got her number so I can bring you here. She’s still awake and waiting.” Kyungsoo pulled out his phone and there it was, his sister’s chat log with the tailor and it seemed to be pretty long from what Jongin could tell. “Are you…”

“No, I’m not flirting with your sister, we started sharing recipes a while ago.”

“A while ago?” Jongin was flabbergasted. What happened while he was gone? “No. I guess it’s okay when I go up alone. Erm…”

“I’ll pick you up afterwards if that’s what you mean. Except you need a day off from Sehun, which I would totally understand.” Kyungsoo nodded away with his own words and patted Jongin’s thigh. “I can pick you up tomorrow after work, that’d be fine with me too. I mean, your sister mentioning something about needing a pair of helping hands in the café? You might be busy the next couple of weeks with something else than modelling. Good night, Jongin.”

Jongin left the car and watched Kyungsoo pulling out of the parking lot. He was confused. It somehow felt like a lot changed. But at the same time not. Kyungsoo was definitely even more approachable than before and Sehun turned even clingier than before, but both shared an atmosphere of melancholy around them, like something did happen during his absence.

“What did happen, while I was gone, _hyung_?” The question got swept up in the clouds of the orange lit city skies, a sudden breeze carrying the syllables away as fast as they were spoken, unheard by who it was directed at. But he knew that Kyungsoo would answer with ‘it’s not my place to talk about it.’ If he wanted answers, he had to go to the source, Sehun.

Sehun was slumped over concept sketches when Kyungsoo shuffled back into his atelier. Deep exhales could be heard and Sehun’s back rose and deflated with steady motions. Kyungsoo walked up to him and cautiously pushed a strand of hair that had fallen in his face back, before dropping a nearby blanket over the sleeping figure. Upon closer inspection, Kyungsoo saw that Sehun had an ugly stain on his cheek and a look on the paper revealed him probably rolling with his face through ink when he fell asleep. Moving slowly away, he sat down before his mannequin and started working on a suit again he had there for the longest time but worked on it only ever so often. In two hours, he would get Sehun back home. It had been months since he slept somewhat tight.

_“Hey, sunshine,”_ Kyungsoo sat on the table next to Sehun, carding his fingers through the elder’s hair, nudging him with the tip of his shoe against the thigh. The latter shuffled closer into the hand petting him, sighing in content. “Wake up, we’re going home, tomorrow is a long day.” Sehun groaned when he awoke in a haze, stretching his sore lips, while his head stayed glued to the top of the table. 

“How late is it, Soo-ah?” his eyes remained closed, and his hands clasped together between his thighs, curving his back and shoulders pushed up, he looked into Kyungsoo’s direction.

“Half past five, the sun starts to rise, we should get home,” Kyungsoo cradled the side of Sehun’s face. Sehun always felt so young and vulnerable in this mental state and it kind of hurt Kyungsoo. He had been like this since Kyungsoo met him and he felt like he really corrupted him.

“Jonginnie?” Sehun furrowed his brows and cracked an eye open, trying to regain focus.

“I’ve set him off at his apartment, so he can visit his sister and to have a break from you.” A deep chuckle resonated from the tailor’s vocal cords, Sehun behaved like a puppy, having his own much larger palms enclosed around Kyungsoo’s, rubbing his face into the younger’s palm.

Sehun slowly started to be more awake, his facial expression slowly morphing into something resembling his usual resting face, but his eyes were still small from sleep. “Did you sleep?”

Kyungsoo hummed in response. He hadn’t closed an eye, if he were honest, but he wouldn’t tell Sehun.

“I’ll be driving us home.”

It had been so long since Jongin was at his sister café and he only now realised how much he missed that place. He worked behind the scenes in the kitchen. His sister wasn’t sure how people would react when they would recognise him, and she wanted to give him as much normality as she was able to give him. “Nini? Could you come to the front for a minute?”

“ _Noona_ ?” Jongin curiously stuck out his head. But she just waved him over. What was so important that she would call him to the front? Seeing who was standing at the counter, he jumped a little. He wasn’t expecting Kyungsoo and Taehee actually standing there. The male outright glaring at the menu with the darkest expression Jongin had ever seen on someone. Taehee, in return, looked like the sun shone out of their ass, well rested and beaming. “Jongin-darling!” they chirped. Kyungsoo didn’t spare him a glance and just released a groan of acknowledgement, Jongin mused. In lieu of a greeting “Quadruple espresso shot, _noona_. A shitty watered-down Americano for the asshole in the car. Taehee?” “Just coffee with cream and sugar.”

Jongin leaned next to his sister on the counter, his arms crossed under his chest, the shop was empty at 10 in the morning. “What brings you here?” Kyungsoo's expression darkened gradually even more and there was something in his eyes Jongin would identify as blazing hellfire. 

“Darling, don’t ask. Your boyfriend forgot that he had an interview at ten thirty and Kyungsoo has to be present as well, since it is for the magazine.” Taehee answered, seemingly apologetic. “The two only came back at five in the morning…” They rolled their eyes and shortly after a yelp escaped their lips and Jongin saw Kyungsoo retreating his hand from their ass, “You talk too much, it’s too early for your chit-chat.”

Jongin felt his sister’s eyes on him. He forgot that he never came out, but when she followed her brother’s career, she’d known he was bi at least. Eyes wide, he turned towards her, a prickling feeling accompanying him. “You got a new boyfriend in the military?” She started preparing the drinks. An embarrassed laugh escaped Jongin’s plush lips and he scratched the back of his hand. “Actually, no, it’s still kind of the same guy? Oh Sehun?” His smile was unsure, and his laugh sounded fake. His sister didn’t seem to pick up on it, but Jongin, in his peripheral vision, saw Kyungsoo’s unamused eyes on him. He gulped.

“Oh? Oh!” While her first oh sounded like confusion, her second one was deeper and was startling full of acknowledgement and, and disbelief? “The idiot.” She shook her head and her brother didn’t know how to analyse what just happened. Kyungsoo huffed and a smirk rose on his lips. “Told you we’re compatible, we both have the same arch nemesis.”

Now Jongin was sure Kyungsoo was flirting with his sister, right in front of him. But Kyungsoo looked at Taehee instead who peered at their phone. “Your majesty wants pastries.”

“Your highness can suck my plebeian dick,” Kyungsoo spat out while he swiped his card through the reader. “Do I look like his servant? Jongin, make sure he serves you and not the other way round. I have high hopes in you. I don’t need the spoiled brat licking up to me.”

After they left, Jongin was back in the kitchen and deeply confused. He either must have been in a coma or he hallucinated those weird changes in the people he worked with before. But to be honest, he never experienced Kyungsoo in the mornings, he just heard tales from Chan and Sehun instead, but reality was way scarier. Chan had once commented that Kyungsoo was not his usual morning self, when the two stayed in the countryside for a month, because Kyungsoo’s boss had sent him there, to assist some royalty in their clothing preparations for some very important and formal event. ‘ _Seoul isn’t worthy of him’,_ Chan had said back then.

His phone vibrated and he checked the notification. He’d written Taemin the night before, apologising for the lack of contact for a week, but Taemin was hellbent on pressing Jongin for information on the mysterious stranger instead, going so far as trying to use his phone outside the allowed time. Jongin still didn’t understand how Taemin was so accepting of it, especially in a society such as Korea. He knew it was different in other countries outside of Asia, but he never really was able to appreciate kissing a male in broad daylight on the street like he saw in photos. Or even think about marrying a male… Jongin’s thoughts strayed away again and he hid his face in his open palms, wincing and whining into the muffling space his hands formed. He wasn’t a sixteen-year-old boy imagining marrying his first girlfriend, but he had rose-tinted glasses on.

But if he was honest, Kyungsoo’s eyes haunted him. The dynamic between him and Sehun changed again, for the better or the worst? Jongin couldn’t tell. Not at this point and not even twenty-four hours. Yet it was tangible in the air. Thinking about it made his head hurt, that much was sure. While he was on break, he started to get curious and put his own name into the search bar of the browser.

He was shocked to read what had unfolded during his absence; allegations, uncovered crimes, lots of gossip if he and Sehun had broken up, analysis’ and threads comparing their compelling auras and weirdly deep and ridiculous conspiracies on their personalities, unfounded reasons why the broke up—Jongin came somehow across the photo that had someone taken of him in Ulsan, when he was on vacation and ate there with Taemin—his ex-manager had been arrested and sentenced on defamation and invasion of privacy of publicly known personalities, siphoning and much more. Jongin was too immersed into the article. And he couldn’t believe that his own manager whom he trusted since the day he hit the stage, had allegedly done all this to him, according to the comments, because he had a personal feud with Sehun and was a homophobic. Jongin couldn’t believe what he read. Under the section of related articles was a photo and the title were something along the lines of “Model Oh Sehun seen leaving police station Manager Lee was investigated for alleged crimes”. What was Sehun’s deal in all this? The deeper he dug, the more often he realised some parallels but wasn’t sure. He had hints and hunches based on a thirty-minute news article hunt on a certain topic. It couldn’t be, could it?

“Kyungsoo said that he’s going to pick you up at six and that you said you’re staying with him and Sehun tonight?” His sister came into the kitchen, a rosy tint on her cheeks and big eyes. Jongin had to take a double take on her, “ _Noona_ , are you blushing? And don’t tell me you’re blushing!” Did his sister develop a crush? On Kyungsoo? Could it be?

“What, of course not,” contrary to her denial, the tint deepened. Jongin should talk to Kyungsoo and he didn’t know if it was because of his sister or if he felt slight jealousy, because he already had to share the tailor with Sehun and now Taehee? Why was he jealous in the first place? Maybe because he had a free pass with Kyungsoo? Oh god, something was wrong with him. “Why didn’t he write me?” She shrugged her shoulders and a mischievous smirk rose on her lips while she left the kitchen, “Maybe because he likes me better?”

Jongin replayed the words the older told him in the car the night before and he didn’t seem all that pleased that he had to butter up to her to get his new address, he looked more annoyed and he was sure that Kyungsoo might only continue the contact because he was interested in her recipes. Kyungsoo is the type of person. His phone vibrated and it was a message from Sehun.

Why would he write now? But Jongin closed the message as soon as he opened it. What was the man thinking? Sending pictures like that? During the day while he was working? But he couldn’t deny that it sent a tingling feeling straight down to his toes and back up, spasming through all the wrong regions and straight to his dick. Cautiously opening the chat again, he tried not to stare at the photo Sehun sent him, which was kind of quite explicit. Covering his phone with his hand—he was too pure for someone dirty and perverted as Sehun—he read the message that accompanied the photo. _Be prepared tonight_ and an emoji resembling a smirking face. How could Sehun get Jongin all hot and bothered just by that and so effortlessly?


	5. Chapter 5

Of course, it wouldn’t take the press long to figure out that Jongin was back in Seoul, especially when teasers resurfaced from the campaign he helped Sehun with. His face was seen, Sehun’s wasn’t. And it was actually Taehee and Chan that told Jongin more about the whole concept of the different designers and that Sehun and Kyungsoo were the only ones from South Korea. And that it was torture for the two of them. Sehun as Creative Director and designer and Kyungsoo as tailor and practical man, they basically were a two-men team doing all the work alone. Now Jongin finally understood why Kyungsoo as a tailor even had a personal assistant when he just regularly worked as a tailor at a Seoul-based renowned tailoring business. Jongin realised that there was more to the two than he actually thought.

But Jongin didn’t realise what it meant and what would assure when Sehun was uncovered and revealed as new Head Designer and somewhat Men’s Wear Designer at Louis Vuitton and the mysterious designer Monsieur that was so highly praised.

Sehun made a grand entrance with the announcement from the end of his sabbatical and return to the fashion industry. The same time as Jongin was scouted for his first job in over two years, by none other than Gucci for their new Fall/Winter collection. But Sehun had forgotten to tell Jongin something important.

“I will—I’ll be moving back to, back to France…” He was choking up and on the verge of tears, not able to look at Jongin. He only had Jongin back for a bit over three months, but how the tables had turned. He looked anywhere but Jongin, he was so embarrassed to be crying in the first place.

“Why?” That was the only question that left in a fleeting whisper Jongin’s lips and Sehun knew he looked at him aghast, unbelieving…hurt. Betrayed.

Sehun pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes to stop the tears from spilling. The only other person he had ever cried in front of was Kyungsoo, it was just hard talking about leaving Jongin like this and it ripped his heart apart. He knew he was mentally co-dependent on Jongin who anchored him. Kyungsoo did too, but he knew things about Sehun that evenJongin didn’t and that's why he held him down differently. “When you were gone, I was so self-abusive, I started to suffer from insomnia and buried myself in work out of the spotlight. Soo-ah forced me to live with him, so he could make sure I shower and eat. And I wanted to escape from this godforsaken place that has never treated me well. Everything here reminded me of you, but you were gone, and I was somehow unable to find you. I decided to move back to France when I was offered a position as Head Designer. And I accepted. Korea isn’t able to give me more. I already have you, Korea cannot give me more I need, but France, Europe has so much more to offer…” He looked up, waiting for a response from Jongin who sat opposite of him on the mattress. Jongin was the one to keep him sane and collected and Sehun couldn’t live without his approval. If he wouldn’t get Jongin’s blessing, he would never move back to France, if that’s what Jongin wanted. Or he would take him with him. Jongin had the heels of his feet pressed against each other and his hands around them, refusing to meet Sehun’s eyes. But he didn’t say anything.

“Jonginnie, I’m immensely sorry,” he took a shaky breath. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t see each other anymore. We could meet wherever in Europe when you are there. We could go on dates, kiss openly, enjoy all the foods and drinks in their respective countries. I know that a lot of fashion houses want to have you run on the catwalk in their designs. I can always visit you here in Korea. I mean, I love you and it’s not like we’ll never see each other. We can make this work if you want to.” He started talking faster, rambling, stumbling over his own words that rushed out with a pace Sehun couldn’t fathom. Jongin’s silence irked and rubbed him all the wrong ways and his hands slowly balled into fists. But Jongin was entitled to stay quiet.

The room was eerily silent for a couple of minutes where Sehun walked up and down the small room, waiting for his boyfriend to answer. “For fuck’s sake, Kim Jongin, speak with me.” He slammed his fist on the desk in his room and Jongin winced, looking up in shock with his lips hanging open and big eyes. The younger spluttered apologies, hanging his head low, “It’s, it’s just so much to take in. I understand your decisions, I really do and I’m so happy for you. You’re able to finally achieve your dream, Sehun-ah.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry for talking to you like this, Jongin-ah. I’m so sorry! But it’s worth nothing without you, Jongin. What do I gain when it’s not with you? Or is there something else? My age? Your reputation? What are you afraid of?” Sehun saw the fright in Jongin’s eyes, even if the younger maybe wasn’t aware of it. “Jongin, I’m afraid as well.” Jongin suddenly got up and stepped towards Sehun, a pained smile on his lips. He reached with his hands for Sehun’s face. They were so cold they left goosebumps on Sehun’s skin, but it was worth it when he felt Jongin’s warm lips on his own, the younger silently ensuring his support. “I won’t leave you, Oh Sehun. I love you just the way you love me. We’ll make this work.”

Jongin still had his sister in Seoul, Kyungsoo and Taehee. Taemin had once voiced his jealousy towards Taehee that they were able to spend so much time with Jongin that Taemin was afraid that they would snatch his best friend status when he visited Jongin in Seoul and Taehee was all but draped over Jongin’s frame and snarling at Taemin also while making eyes at him.

And it was a miracle how Sehun stood five times before his door announced in the two months since he moved continents. And he knew from the tabloids that Sehun loved praising the high heavens when he talked about his boyfriend in interviews. The power couple was back together in the public eye and it filled Jongin with something magical, knowing that he was so loved. His model jobs started piling up and he got busier and busier. One week he was on some remote island in Italy, the next he was being photographed and interviewed in America. Sitting in front of a massive print of his face and Rihanna’s. It didn’t take long for fans to edit the two together, back when she announced the wide range of foundation she had and upon popular demand, she slid smoothly into his DMs asking for a collaboration. But he was aware of his reputation and standing,  _ who _ he was working for, but he couldn’t help himself when it was a campaign against discrimination of disability, trans-visibility, and homosexuality, just to name a very few. Of course, he was quick to ask the legal team in the agency, but since he wasn’t a ambassador at that point, he got a go. Before he enlisted.

Sehun was always the first congratulating Jongin on new brand deals, photoshoots, and all in between. But also using his wide-spread connections. He never admitted that to Jongin, but the latter knew. It somehow weighed him down. Until he got a proposal he most likely wasn’t able to refuse, not when his model agency actually kept mostly quiet about it. Gucci wanted Kim Jongin as their brand ambassador. It was no secret that Jongin was one of the biggest Gucci fanboys. He knew it himself. And now he was more than happy that he started taking a language course in Italian. Seems like the stars aligned finally. Yet he didn’t tell his friends, nor his family, nor Sehun.

He had no idea how to tackle the topic to anyone. He remembered clearly how Sehun had figuratively broken down, when he told Jongin that he would move. But even with him gone, his long talons still reached out for Jongin, caging, and protecting him; he worked with the same agency that Sehun was in. One of the most diverse agencies in Korean maybe even asia. Sehun and Jongin were the only two Korean males in it, only varierté of female Asians outside Korea, but the main portion of the models were people of colour and from different backgrounds, as well as slim to plus sizes. One of the agencies that was vocal about racism and discrimination, and who unashamedly called out people who discriminate their models. The reason was Oh Sehun and the choice to be really diverse and promote it, he was a major shareholder as well. It was the one Sehun had brought him into, when he came back from the military. Jongin started to be unsure if this was all a good idea; staying with Sehun’s agency and upholding the long distant relationship. He stood behind the image his agency promoted and this would make it even more difficult to leave such an open-minded community and safespace. It drained him emotionally, yet he wondered how Sehun didn’t know yet that he was Gucci’s new ambassador. Maybe it was him begging not to tell anyone in the agency. Sehun’s visits would get less over the time and who knows, maybe France has to offer the better gays? Jongin spiralled into something he was aware of that he shouldn’t go down that way. Sehun was loyal, he’d proven that a number of times.

But Sehun’s visits got less in the next couple of months, of course they would be. He got busier and busier and he did have different interests than Jongin, he was thirty-five after all, nine years older than Jongin. Jongin bobbed his head up and down to the music blasting from the stereo and he drummed his hands along the table and his thighs, overlooking the skyline of Seoul. The setting sun was lulling the city in an orange glow, the clouds painting fantastical creatures in the sky and Jongin lost himself.

“I’ll do it on my own,” he spoke with a clear voice into the void of his heart, balling the fists on the table. “I’m an adult and can do it. I have to live with the consequences, I can’t be dependent on other people all the time.” But could he really?

Opening his laptop, he scanned through the emails until he found what he was looking for. After some contemplation and checking the time difference, he called the number.

_ “Buon pomeriggio, parla De Luca dell'agenzia Bianchi. Come posso aiutarla?” _ the number answered in crystal clear yet slightly seducing Italian. At least to Jongin’s ears. There was something about men talking Italian, or anything other than Korean or English really.

_ “Buon pomeriggio, sono il signor Kim Jongin.”  _ Jongin answered in Italian, slightly nervous of his pronunciation.

_ “Ah, Signor Kim. What a surprise for us to receive your call,” _ the man on the other side switched to English.  _ “Your pronunciation already sounds more Italian than last time, Signore.” _

“Thanks a lot,  _ signore De Luca. _ I’m practicing my best. The reason I call actually is, should I send your agency my portfolio?”

_ “Oh, no, no. There’s no need to. We’ll send you the contract straight away in a Korean and Italian  _ traduzione  _ and just bring it the next time you might be around in Italia, for a shoot or such. We could also meet up for  _ cena  _ and talk about any questions you have, signore.” _ De Luca sounded like he was beaming on the other side of the telephone and Jongin momentarily forgot his worries. He knew he would be in good hands in Italy.

“Actually, I’m for a first shoot for the new client in Italy in a month already,” Jongin tapped on the date he would have his shoot for Gucci. Three more months until he would be introduced to the public via the new campaign. He started small talking with the other man on the phone, practicing his Italian at the same time, while he printed out the resignation for his current agency. He was thankful for what they did for him, but he felt like Sehun’s name was doing more damage. And as much as he loved the man, after all those months, he wanted to focus on his career. Something he never properly developed on his own with either Sehun or Min-Jun by his side. It’s okay to be selfish once in a while, isn’t it? He would just have to tell Sehun, it wouldn’t be difficult, would it?

“Please, call me Jongin.”

_ “Giacomo. Pleased to meet you, Jongin.” _

It was way more difficult than he would have expected. And suddenly he remembered the words Kyungsoo told him almost two years ago,  _ “You don’t want to see him angry.” _

But his definition of angry was different than he expected…

“Sehun, it might be for the best. You are busy, I am. And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier about anything.” His resignation had collided with the global announcement from Gucci and his new model agency announcing their newest hit to the internet. “I need a break, I couldn’t really stand on my own two feet since I entered the industry, Sehun. My name is never mentioned without the addition of yours and I feel like a lot of people only see me because of you. I love you, but it’s all so much.”

He heard Sehun laboured breathing on the other end of the telephone before something like glass breaking pulled him out of his reverie. “Sehun, are you okay? Sehun?” More rustling and choked moans like stifled sobs crackled through the receiver and Jongin felt his heart plunged into a void. Minutes of silence and silent sobs ensued and Jongin pressed the phone closer to his ear, trying to hear anything while he spilled his own tears.

_ “You break up with me.” _ Sehun didn’t ask a question,  _ “And you want to focus on your career.” _ His voice just sounded around the edges like he just cried minutes prior, otherwise he sounded calm and collected yet majorly pressed.  _ “I—I understand it, I get it. It makes sense and you’re right. I never left you your space and dragged you along, using my connections to get you jobs. No, no, I understand.” _

“I’m sorry,” Jongin’s voice was just merely above a whisper. “We can still be friends and maybe one day…”

_ “No, Stop. Don’t do that to me, Kim Jongin. I need a break if that’s happening right now. You can’t assume I want to be friends at this point. I can’t mentally survive that when you want to break up with me and remain friends. I don’t even want to persuade you to stay together with me. You’re young, I mean, you turn 27 in less than two months. I’m turning 36. Maybe it’s better this way. I’m, I’m sorry. Maybe I never took your own personal feelings and decisions into account and just did what I thought was best for you. But I need time, please don’t contact me in the near future.” _ Sehun’s voice grew colder and more distant with each syllable being transferred over the connection and Jongin wondered if that’s what Kyungsoo meant with anger. The call was cut short and Jongin stared at a black screen, when he pulled the phone away from his ear. Maybe it was for the best.

One headline followed Sehun on every step he took,  _ “Top-Model Kim Jongin Joining Gucci — Said To Have ‘Cut All Ties’ To Focus On His New Job” _ . They even made statements that it might be because Sehun mainly worked with Louis Vuitton and Jongin now worked with Gucci. Talks about the rivalry between the houses might have been also a case, but he knew better. Unfortunately. He evaded every kind of interview and the paparazzi the best he could. His agency had to address the rumours of them breaking up as true and Jongin’s face was all over the press. Sehun holed up in his apartment and shut everything off. He had planned to invite Jongin for Christmas, but that just went up in smoke as well. He wasn’t even able to clean up the broken mirror he had his fist smashed into when Jongin had called. His eyes were dry, and he couldn’t cry anymore after two weeks. He didn’t showered in what seemed forever and food was starting to get mouldy in the sink. He barely ate and most of the time he drank instead of eating. He was a mess, and his psyche was on a downwards trend. His anchor had left him, and he was now driftwood in the depths of the ocean, being tossed around by the stormy currents and the chaos around him. He felt like dying and everything came back all too real from his early childhood and teen years. His thoughts brought him back to his darkest years when he had prostituted himself to pay for his medication for his severe depression, next to being on full scholarship in school in France, after what happened before. He loved the country, but not those years. He was being tossed around and played with, just to make money and survive. The industry was problematic and so was his life, it cost him a pretty penny to destroy the evidence of his previous life. He had stopped taking medication years ago because he got better and better. Even his shrink was positively surprised and happy with the progress Sehun made. But now? 

He stood before an unconquerable wall he wasn’t able to overcome. His mind slowly started to turn off when he barely registered the doorbell. He ignored it for so long already, another time wouldn’t hurt as well. He held his hands over his ears and curled into a ball, the bottle of wine rolling off his lap onto the ground. The ringing continued, but he ignored it, shaking back and forth while humming something that didn’t make sense and was undistinguishable. He was spiralling into the slow descent of madness and panic.

His head was suddenly lifted, and something yanked at his hair. He let out a hoarse cry of pain until he came face to face with a man. 

Kyungsoo. 

And he looked beyond livid.

Kyungsoo was raging. He just wanted to skin everyone alive and feed them to rats. He was beside himself with rage. For once, Jongin. Those guts the man had, but a tiny voice in his head understood the younger’s decision. Second, Sehun. No one had seen him for weeks and no-one could contact him, so he decided to hand in emergency vacation for at least a month and booked the next flight to France. He should have done that when the news was all over the place and not only now.

He had to restrain himself from slapping Sehun across the face with every harshness he would muster. He had no hunch how a drunken Sehun would react. Well, he knew. But it was fifty-fifty, and he wouldn’t try for the sake of a near-death experience. Yet he could choke Sehun into oblivion and everything in his veins screamed to do so. He managed to only smash his fist into the cupboard next to Sehun, leaving a dent from the ring he was wearing. He felt and heard something break in his finger and his face contorted in pain; he inhaled sharply, before, “F u c k! Oh Sehun, you fucking piece of scum.” He let go of Sehun’s hair he still had in his fingers and jumped up, holding his injured hand to his chest, and trying to regulate his breathing by walking up and down the room.

Sehun seemed to get out of his trance and his eyes lost the foggy glaze they had. Getting up with drunk and stumbling steps, he lifted himself with the help of the cupboard and wobbled over to Kyungsoo. Catching him with grabby hands, he enclosed his arms around the smaller and slumped down with him in his arms on the carpet, suddenly starting to wail like a kid. Hiding his face in the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck, he sobbed loudly and held onto him for his dear life. The stench of alcohol was so much clearer in close proximity and it was almost unbearable. Kyungsoo felt tears welling up in his face as well, but less of the broken fingers, but because of his dear friend being so broken. Straddling his lap, he slung his arms around the elder’s head and swayed them back and forth, hushing him and humming an old nursery rhyme he picked up somewhere long ago and always used to calm Sehun down with it.

Sehun brabbled in French and Kyungsoo was unable to understand him. He only heard the word Jongin a couple of times. “Sehun, dear, speak English or Korean, I can’t understand you.” Running his hand through the greasy hair of Sehun, he massaged the scalp to get him calm down even more, his own pain almost forgotten.

“J-jongin, Soo-ah, Jon-gi-gin.” Sehun’s voice was hoarse and scratchy as if he hadn’t spoken in days. “Yes, Sehun, yes,” Kyungsoo would think that Jongin was dead if he didn’t know better. “Why did you let him go, without a fight? Sehun-ah, you love him. Don’t you? Why are you always trying to control him? He's an adult, he knows what he’s doing.”

“He left me, he-he-he left me…” Sehun was stuttering and choking on the words he tried to speak. And Kyungsoo knew where this chat was heading, he knew what Sehun felt and his mind tried to implant into him. What his thoughts are doing to him.

“What makes you think he betrayed you?” Kyungsoo tried, sugar coating wasn’t helping at this moment.

“He left, a-again. He doesn’t love me? He s-said he won’t leave me, that we, we make t-this work. He lied.” Sehun’s state was worse than Kyungsoo anticipated. Jongin tried to call him a few days ago, but Kyungsoo had ignored him. Not when he did this again to his best friend. At this point it was somewhat not even excusable anymore. Sehun had laid himself bare before Jongin, the second day after he picked him up from the military. Kyungsoo knew, because Sehun had called him afterwards, confused and angsty. He’d never done that to anyone except Kyungsoo.

If people said he looked vulnerable in his photos, they had no idea how close to the truth they were. He had two personalities in one body. The hard, unforgiving, violent persona and the soft, vulnerable, and terrified one. Sehun was deeply afraid of change. Jongin left him twice. Kyungsoo was just so frustrated with everything, this threw Sehun most probably back ten years’ worth of therapy. In the worst case. It wasn’t Kyungsoo’s place to meddle, but he would track Jongin down and confront him.

“Sehun-ah let’s get you showered and then you’ll sleep. I’ll stay with you and sleep with you in a bed. You don’t need to be afraid; I’ll stay with you.” He pulled him up, dragging him towards the bathroom. He stayed two weeks until Sehun was stable enough to leave the house unfazed. It wasn’t like people and paparazzi were still waiting and unrightfully demanding answers.

“You’ll be okay on your own?” Kyungsoo had his small satchel shouldered while he stood in the door, looking up at Sehun who still had him in a hug. The latter nodded into his shoulder. “-m sorry, that you broke your fingers because of me, Soo-ah,” he muttered into the crook of Kyungsoo’s neck and Kyungsoo felt a shiver running down his spine. Why was his neck so sensitive? 

“It’s okay, I hope you feel eternally sorry for that. I’m a tailor, I need my fingers to work properly.” The splits on Kyungsoo’s fingers were a mess though, but he caved in to Sehun’s demands and got a yellow gauze for them, because Sehun had the impression Kyungsoo needed colour the same amount he needed it. 

“Where are you going to now?” Sehun didn’t need to ask, he had seen where Kyungsoo’s plane ticket would bring him next. He didn’t even try to convince him to not do it. Kyungsoo knew what’s best for himself and him. Kyungsoo had seen him at his worst when they met for the first time and Kyungsoo had sworn to protect him with his life and if he had to choke a man barehanded. Sehun didn’t feel dependent on Kyungsoo, because they anchored each other, and not just one person the other. It was a mutualistic symbiosis. Both conduced from it greatly. Sehun might have been somewhere else or worse without Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo wouldn’t do what he loves if it weren’t for Sehun and might’ve gone down a road he shouldn’t.

_ “Jongin, there’s someone at the agency for you?” _ Jongin received a call from his agent while he was lounging on the rooftop. He distanced himself since he broke up with Sehun, it had been a long relationship he broke off. He spent most of his time with Sehun in his mind since he was 19 and now he was alone. He didn’t like to admit it, but Sehun was like a drug that had him fixed from the get-go and now coming down from it? Impossible.  _ “Who is it?” _

_ “He refuses to tell his name, but he’s Korean. And I’m actually not sure, but he’s flirting with our security guard in the entrance hall?” _ Giacomo sounded confused and even if Jongin wanted to say Sehun’s name first, but that sounded like someone entirely else. 

_ “Give me ten minutes,” _ Jongin jumped up from his spot and cut the call. He threw a tank top over and was almost out of the door when he saw what he looked like. “Fuck, Kim Jongin, you really look like a junkie on rehab.” His stubble was more than a five o’clock shadow and his hair hung in strands into his eyes and he might have washed himself the last time two or three days ago. This break-up was really taking a toll on him. Throwing over his messenger bag, he grabbed his bike and threw the door close. It took him twelve minutes on his bike until he was at his agency. 

Kyungsoo was really flirting with the security man; the way he leaned against the wall and looked up at him and reached for his elbow. Jongin never saw him this extreme in action and he knew he did it to stall. To appear less suspicious, but Jongin knew it was a farce and he was afraid to call out for the tailor he didn’t think he would meet under these circumstances in Italy.

_ “Hyung?” _ Jongin called out and regretted it immediately. Kyungsoo turned around and his whole face darkened, and his expression fell so abruptly. Cigarette in the corner of his lips, he pushed away from the wall with his hands in his pockets. He sauntered towards Jongin who still stood there and Jongin’s hands fidgety flexed around the handlebars. The way Kyungsoo looked up at him, Jongin never had seen someone with such a cold expression. “Any last words before I skin you alive, Kim Jongin?” Kyungsoo hissed at him and Jongin wasn’t sure if he would really do that. At this point everything was possible. “You have four hours to explain yourself before I’m either flying back to France or Korea.”

“B-Back to France?” Jongin was confused. His pigeon brain wasn’t able to comprehend the information at this point. 

“Yes, I flew here directly from France. Keeping a certain someone from emotionally killing himself, Jongin.” Hearing his name like this burned Jongin’s skin. He didn’t try to think about Sehun all the time and now that Kyungsoo stood before him in all his glory? 

The bike frame rattled against the concrete ground underneath and the world seemed to stay still for a second. Jongin fell into Kyungsoo awaiting arms and everything broke free from the ice that trapped him at once and Jongin let it all out in a painful wail. He had avoided thoughts and his own emotions the past month completely and thought he would be better. Just sometimes fleeting thoughts scraped at his subconsciousness, but he was a busy man.

“Jongin, why did you lie to yourself, you didn’t smile in one photo taken of you.” Kyungsoo was talking about the photoshoots that had been published since he broke up. Jongin  _ did  _ smile, but he knew what Kyungsoo actually meant. He pulled back, trying to smile. “Stop lying to yourself, Jongin, it hurts.” Still looking up, Jongin felt his face falling back into the painful and ugly truth and tears rolled down his cheeks. He stumbled alongside Kyungsoo, who pulled him towards the entrance of the agency.

_ “I, I didn’t know what I was thinking. If I’m honest, I don’t even know why I was doing it. I mean…” _ Jongin fiddled with his fingers, he sat on the armchair in Giacomo’s office, Kyungsoo sitting on the desk itself, much to Giacomo’s dismay who also sat in the office. They had decided to talk in English so the agent could give advice for the younger as well, if he had something wise to say.

_ “I get that you might have been fed up with Sehun mingling with your job. But did you tell him clearly that you disliked that?” _ Kyungsoo asked and Jongin shook his head in denial, timidly so.  _ “No. no, I didn’t…” _ Jongin realised something. He knew that Sehun would have stopped it if he had said something. But he didn’t. Sehun was no monster, he just had the best of interest for Jongin in mind. It was always only about Jongin.

_ “Jongin, Sehun laid himself bare before you after the military. Jongin, you didn’t realise the significance of it yet, do you? I’m the only other person he ever did that too. He trusts you with his life. He only has the two of us. And I don’t say it to guilt-trip you. I see how much you suffer from it. Think about it. He’ll take you back no matter what. Remember the campaign?” _ Kyungsoo crossed his arms before his chest, giving Jongin a hard level-stare and Jongin gulped. He nodded. _ “What was the umbrella concept?” _

His eyes went wide, and he suddenly understood what had happened, what he had done. He whispered suddenly in Korean, recognising the consequences of what he’s saying. “Betrayal.”

“Right, he has suffered from that since his childhood, that’s what his tattoo presents in a broader sense. Jongin,  _ please, however you decide, give him a call. Explain your reasoning. If you want to break up, take your time to talk with him, if you decide the other way around…I know he can’t live without you. You’re his significant other, you’re the missing third he looked for so long.”  _ Kyungsoo’s voice was soft and without malice, Jongin knew he cared for Sehun, but the same way almost for him as well.

_ “I guess you’re the other third?” _ Giacomo added from his seat.

Kyungsoo turned around and Jongin saw him using his flirting face again. The man was extremely deceiving, but Jongin learned that Kyungsoo never used that on him, it was always genuine care. He leaned back on the desk so he could see Jongin’s agent better,  _ “Of course, I’m pretty possessive.” _ The sweet voice was sending a shudder down Jongin’s spine and he tapped the elder’s shin. Kyungsoo was quick to reciprocate and turned back, his whole expression morphing back into a loving smile, “Jongin-ah?”

“ _ Hyung _ , do you still have time for dinner before you have to go back?” Jongin was feeling timid and looked down, he really wanted to go out with Kyungsoo to thank him for letting him talk about it.

“I actually planned on crashing at your place, I’m not in the mood for flying back to Korea now and I technically still have almost two weeks of emergency vacation before me.” His smile revealed his teeth and reminded Jongin of a very round heart.

“Thanks,  _ hyung.” _

Months passed by. Kyungsoo had developed a new hobby at the age of 34: gossip, rumours, and tabloids, also: delusional fangirls. Especially after he’d been a victim of rumours again, when he was spotted with Jongin in Italy. And sometimes he printed out the articles with the funniest or most ridiculous phrases and statements, just to highlight it and hold it anyone involved under their noses, especially if he knew those were false and baseless. He also closely followed both Sehun and Jongin. The hectic around the two slowly died down, nonetheless whenever they were supposed to be at the same fashion show hell would break loose. There were even ridiculous long videos that analysed their relationship. If Kyungsoo needed to let off steam or just get drunk he would watch them, just out of sheer fright about what people do and how much they think they should be involved in someone else’s life. The best part were the fangirls, picking every little detail apart that would suffice as proof that they in fact still dated. Maybe it was Kyungsoo’s doing, gifting his two friends’ jewellery, or sometimes finishing their suits. He really turned into a gossipmonger. Much to Sehun’s raptures since he still couldn’t believe that Kyungsoo was that up to date with everything. But he learned that Kyungsoo only used his second Instagram account to stalk. But Sehun loved gossip just as much.

But there was one thing Kyungsoo had genuine interest in, the articles from fashion magazines and news outlets highlighting the different auras between the two ex-lovers. Most of them were spot-on and Kyungsoo also got a good look at the outfits they wore. And it made him happy what he sometimes saw, maybe even conjuring a smirk at times.

Berluti announced at their fashion show in Paris Oh Sehun at their new muse and he stole hearts left and right in his simple get-up, the dark-teal bomber jacket with the Berluti print shirt, the sunglasses, and the black pants. It cried leger and comfortable like he was on a date with someone. Some outlets even highlighted the crossbody bag and the sunglasses he was wearing, together with his shorter hair that was swept back. People did seem to dig his shorter hair, same for Kyungsoo, especially if it was swept back and he didn’t wear hats all the time.

At the same time, Jongin attended the _ Gucci Falls Menswear _ fashion show in Milan and of course, people were all over the moon for him. His style, playful yet sophisticated, had onlookers in a bliss. The bootcut flare pants with the check pattern in brownish colours, with the tugged in floral pattern dress shirt that was oversized? And the light blue dress shirt that appeared from beneath the floral shirt at the elbow. The loosened collar definitely had some people swooning. Yet Jongin made the whole combi work as if it was made only for him. And his golden tan was highlighted by the clothes.

And of course, some people started comparing the two again, because some still couldn’t understand how two people so different had been together for so long and still both didn’t show signs of mingling with anyone.

Yet there was one thing that had everyone confused. Why was Sehun spotted outside Jongin’s hotel at four am in Milan, when he was supposed to be in Paris, preferably still at the after-show party? And why was he pulling Kim Jongin along who was laughing loudly before he tucked himself under the arm of the other man? And why did it look like Sehun kissed him in the end before they disappeared around the corner and the paparazzi too dumbfounded to move?

What the hell was going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thanks for reading. I enjoyed writing this story a lot, even if it turned out waaaaaay longer than planned. I mean, I planned 15k oneshot, in the end it turned even into 30k.  
> Secondly, thanks to the prompter for letting me write SeKai. It was a lot of fun triggering you with random out-of-context screenshots and spoilers. And I hope you like the ending. As promised, no second Ventura.  
> Third, thanks to my beta Agent_K over on Ao3, it was a nice experience working together with you. <3
> 
> And please, tell me your thoughts~ I love reading them <3

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed it, please let me know. Comments are always very much appreciated~


End file.
